Gone
by inzane73
Summary: How much abuse can a guy take before he snaps? Events in Hello, Goodbye take a different turn. AU from that point.
1. Betrayal

Gone

By Inzane

Disclaimer: I do not own Dark Angel, or any of its characters, or the episode _Hello, Goodbye_, which will be heavily referenced in this fic. Since I do not own any of the above, I obviously am not making any money from this.

Summary: How much abuse can a guy take before he snaps? Events in Hello, Goodbye take a different turn. AU from that point.

A/N: It kind of bothered me in _Hello, Goodbye _that Alec almost immediately blew of the fact that Max thought he could murder someone in cold blood. What if he didn't blow it off? What if it _did_ bother him, and more than just a little bit?

Warning: This fic will have language, violence, and, of course, angst, because, apparently, my muse is heavily into all three. And, in case you didn't notice from the previous sentence, there will be extreme abuse of commas. Sorry. I can't help it. It's a compulsion.

* * *

Chapter 1: Betrayal

"So you did it. It's over."

Original Cindy could barely believe that Max had gone through with it, that she had ended it with Logan. Her girl was stubborn, and OC hadn't thought that she would've given up so easily.

Logan had survived Max's touch of death, thanks to Joshua. Logan wasn't blaming Max for what had happened, which made him an okay guy in Original Cindy's book. OC had never thought that the older man was really right for Max, but Max cared about him, so that had been good enough for Cindy. She figured Max must've finally had enough of the drama, though, and was calling it quits. She just hoped her friend wasn't making a rash decision that she would regret later.

"Yeah. It's over." Max replied tiredly.

She slumped heavily against the bar at Crash, trying hard not to think about how much her life sucked. She really wished that she could somehow slow down her metabolism a bit so she could get drunk. Then maybe she wouldn't have to think about the fact that she had almost killed Logan. She wouldn't have to think about the fact that Alec had cared more about his stupid scams or getting laid than coming through for her, and Logan had almost died because of it.

Max had reluctantly come to terms with the fact that it was over with Logan. He was alive, but it was no thanks to her. She'd had to end it, because next time, they might not get so lucky. She had no right to risk him like that, no matter what he said. She realized now that she never should have let their relationship get this far in the first place. She couldn't bear to have his death on her conscience, so she'd decided to take matters into her own hands and end it.

Alec's words from before kept echoing in her head. _We don't belong with 'em. Okay?_ _We're a danger to them. When are you gonna finally see that?_

Alec was right. She did finally see, and she hated him for it. And she hated that he couldn't be bothered to save Logan's life, that he didn't even have the common decency to help a man in need.

As she sat at the bar, moping, she found that what she was unable to come to terms with was Alec himself. Over time, she had allowed her opinion of him to change, and he had let her down. She told herself that she shouldn't have been surprised, but she was. She couldn't figure out why this upset her so much, why _this _was the thing that continued to bother her. Logan had almost died, and yes, it sucked, but she was dealing. What she couldn't deal with was the fact that Alec wasn't the man she'd thought he'd become.

"Ladies, did you hear what happened to our buddy Alec?" Sketchy had pushed in between her and OC to get to the bar, and Max felt like her friend had somehow read her thoughts, that he knew Alec was on her mind.

"Don't care," she replied offhandedly, determined to maintain that front. _Nope. Don't care at all_, she told herself. _Don't give a damn that he let you down … that he's an unreliable jerk … that he had more important things to do than be there when you needed him._

"He's in jail," Sketchy said conspiratorially, raising his eyebrows a bit.

At these words, for the briefest moment, Max felt a hint of fear for Alec, but she shut that down. "Whatever," she replied flatly. Inside her head, she kept repeating _don't care, don't care, don't care .._.

"You know Hummer," Sketchy continued, "the bartender from last night? Saw him get pinched right outside of here. Kind of makes you wonder what he did, huh?"

"Not really," Max muttered, keeping her voice devoid of emotion.

As Sketchy walked away with his pitcher of beer, Max's internal thoughts were in a frenzy. _No, I don't wonder. I don't care. He means nothing to me. __**Nothing**__. I don't feel anything. _If Max had taken a minute to examine her inner thoughts, she would have realized that she was desperately trying to convince herself of this.

Original Cindy looked at Max in disbelief. "You're not gonna go help?"

OC was kind of shocked. She'd thought that things had changed a bit between Max and Alec--thought that there might be something there. Something the two of them were actively ignoring, but still, she was pretty sure it was there. Something more than the lukewarm thing Max had with Logan. OC knew about passion, and Max and Logan just didn't have it. Love, maybe, but passion? Uh uh. Max and Alec, though … definite fireworks.

When Sketchy had been talking about Alec, OC could see that Max was trying to hide her pain--pain that had nothin' to do with Logan. No one else would have picked up on it, but no one else knew Max like she did. She knew that if Max had no feelings for Alec whatsoever, that she wouldn't've been hurting like she was. Cindy figured Max's feelings about Logan and her feelings about Alec were butting heads right now, and it had her girl completely spun.

'I got my own problems," Max replied, all tough-chick mode, which OC could see right through. "Alec can take care of himself." Despite her words, Max felt an instinctual urge to help him, to get him out of trouble like she'd always done. _No_, she scolded herself. _He got into this, he can get himself out. He doesn't need you. He doesn't need anybody. He's all about himself, so let him deal with it himself._

Original Cindy stared at Max. She knew that if something happened to Alec, Max would never be able to forgive herself. She had to make Max see that somehow, to give her a little push in the right direction before it was too late.

"Now, you know you gotta come correct on this. Suppose they tip to his barcode? Exposure. Bad for Alec, bad for you, bad for Joshua, bad for everybody." OC held her breath for a moment, hoping that Max would do the right thing.

Max's eyes rolled slightly, and OC let go of the breath, knowing that she had succeeded. "Not like saving his butt isn't already my full-time job." Max gave her a weak smile, then added, "Thanks for the beer."

Max got up from her stool and headed for the door. Secretly, in a dark corner of her mind that she liked to ignore, the place where she pushed all the feelings she was uncomfortable with, she was glad for an excuse to go rescue Alec. But that thought stayed in that dark corner of her mind. On the surface, her mind was occupied with different thoughts.

_You're not doing this for him. You're doing this to protect yourself and Joshua and other transgenics from exposure. It's not about Alec. You don't give a damn about him._

In that dark little corner, her inner voice whispered one word to her.

_Liar_.

* * *

Max shifted on the seat of her Ninja as she blazed through the streets of Seattle, a bit uncomfortable in the pants suit she had donned for her role as a public defender. Ever since she decided to spring Alec, she had worked hard to maintain her front, to pretend that she didn't care, that bailing him out of trouble was just business as usual. But inside, that dark little corner of her mind refused to be ignored. All she could think about was how much it hurt that he wasn't there when she asked him, that his dumbass schemes had gotten him busted when she'd needed him the most.

She'd stupidly fooled herself into believing that Alec had changed. That night at the Berrisford mansion a while back, she'd thought she'd found out there was more to him than the devil-may-care façade he presented to the world. But there wasn't. She'd been wrong. He had played her for a fool. Alec was a self-centered, egoistical asshole that only cared about himself. He didn't give a damn about her, or anything that mattered to her. She was disturbed by just how much that thought that Alec didn't care about her actually hurt.

She felt betrayed.

Max hated the way he'd made her feel, all sorts of mixed-up emotions messing with her head, so she transferred all those emotions into anger. Much of her anger was directed at Alec, but she was also mad at herself. Mad because she had started to depend on him ... to trust him ... to need him.

She should have known better.

By the time Max walked into the police station, she was deep in a cold rage.

* * *

As soon as the cop ushered him through the door into the interview room, Alec felt a relief and a little bit of dread--relief that Max had come to save his ass, like always, and dread, because she looked like she was pissed at him, again, like always.

"Whitney Mann, public defender's office. I'll be handling your case." Alec took in Max's tone, facial expression, and body language as she rose to her feet.

_Yep. Max was definitely pissed._

"Pleasure," Alec replied, eying her warily, then found himself being roughly shoved into the chair across from Max.

"You need anything, I'm right outside. You got five minutes," the cop that had escorted him to the room said, then turned to leave.

"Officer …" Max called out, getting the man to stop and turn back to her. She walked over to the cop and leaned a bit closer, lowering her voice. "Can you tell me, has he displayed any violent tendencies?" She batted her lashes once and reached out to touch his arm lightly, trying to advertise that she was a bit worried about her safety without being too over the top.

At the sight of those deep brown eyes, the officer softened a bit. Why a girl that pretty would decide to be a public defender of all things, he'd never know. "Don't worry. He hasn't really been much trouble, aside from the smart mouth. I don't think he'll be a problem."

"Good," Max said, turning back toward Alec for a moment before slamming her elbow backwards into the guard's face, sending him crashing unconscious to the ground. Max knelt to retrieve the handcuff keys from the cop, then unerringly tossed them to Alec without looking. "Let's go," she called to him in clipped tones, already turning to leave.

Alec was out of the chair and after her, fumbling with the key to the cuffs as he moved down the hall. "Wait up! Max!" he called out in a harsh whisper.

He frowned as she continued down the hall as if she hadn't even heard him. She couldn't be that mad, could she? She'd come here to spring him, hadn't she? If she'd been that pissed off, she probably would've just left him, right? Convincing himself that it couldn't be that bad, he got the cuffs off and increased his speed to catch up with her.

* * *

After walking ledges, hanging from drainpipes, and dodging a multitude of bullets to escape the police station, Alec was frankly ready to call it a night. It wasn't like he was going soft or something. He just preferred to avoid anything that reminded him of his days at Manticore if he could help it. Unfortunately, his whole new fugitive-from-justice status kind of put a cramp on that idea. He'd have to pick up some stuff from his place and go under. Back to the old sneak and creep. Maybe he could hang with Josh for a while, lay low with the big guy until he got this mistaken identity thing cleared up.

Max slowed her Ninja as she entered the alley behind Alec's apartment building. As soon as they slowed, Alec leaned closer to her so he could talk in her ear.

"Thanks for saving my ass back there, Max. And I mean that literally." When Max slowed her bike to a stop, Alec got off, looking up at the building, figuring it might be the last time he entered its dingy halls for a while. Preoccupied as he was, at first he didn't notice that Max didn't move from her bike.

"There was this huge guy in holding--you'd think _he_ had his DNA spliced or somethin', with like, an elephant, maybe--anyway, he looked like he wanted me to be his bitch, though I _clearly_ don't swing that way. So I was thinking, how can I fend this guy off without tippin' anyone to the fact that I could break him in two with my hands tied behind my back and blindfolded, you know?"

Alec finally noticed that Max wasn't talking to him and turned back to face her, eyebrows raised. For a moment, he was worried something happened to Logan. The guy was not his favorite person and all, but he was okay, and Alec certainly didn't want to see him dead.

"Max … Logan's all right … isn't he?" Alec asked hesitantly.

Max slowly got off her bike, but she still refused to look at him or say anything. Alec didn't see grief on her face, so he figured that Max found some other option to get Logan fixed up. No, he didn't see grief. What he did see was anger.

_Dammit, she's mad at me again, and I didn't even do anything wrong this time. No matter what I do, I'm always the fuckin' bad guy. _

Alec took a step toward her, starting to explain. "Hey look, I'm sorry, I was on my way to the hos..."

His words were cut off suddenly as Max's fist flew up and slammed into his mouth. He'd been so unprepared for the blow, he lost his balance and landed hard on his butt. His hand automatically came up to feel out the injury, and when he drew it back, he could see his own blood on his hand. He looked up a Max, his look of shock turning to confusion as he saw the fury in her eyes.

Max stared down at him, letting her rage control her. Her thoughts were dark, and anything but clear.

_God, now he's gonna lie to me?_ _Of course he is. He's been lying this whole time, pretending that he was someone he's not, that he wasn't just a product of Manticore, but he was lying. _

"Shut up. I was gonna bail your sorry ass out, 'cause I figured you got grabbed up off of one of your scams going sideways. But then I have to go and bust you out 'cause I found out you killed somebody!"

Alec got to his feet, shaking his head. "I didn't do it."

Max took a step closer to Alec so she could glare directly up into his face. How could he _lie _right to her face like that? "They said you got I.D.'d. There's a perfect DNA match."

Alec closed his eyes for a second, tilting his head slightly. _Why does she have to be so fucking stubborn?_ "I'm telling you…" he began, but once again, Max cut him off.

Max let her anger get the better of her. She was beyond rational thought at this point, beyond being reasoned with. She wanted to hurt him, like what he'd done had hurt her.

"I don't wanna hear it. I'm sorry I let you out of Manticore. I'm sorry I inflicted you on the world," Max hissed, her face inches from his own.

The venom in Max's words cut Alec like a knife. He took a step back from her, unable to hide the flicker of pain in his eyes. _Why won't she listen? She won't even give me a chance to explain!_

Max crossed her arms and cocked out a hip, flipping her dark hair over her shoulder. "I only busted you outta there so you don't expose the rest of us. But as of right now, I wash my hands of you."

Alec blinked at Max's words, unable to process them at first. When his brain finally caught up, he refused to accept those words. She wouldn't really cut him out of her life. Not now, after all they'd been through since Manticore. He was so used to fighting with Max, that he convinced himself that she was just busting his chops, like she always did.

"Dammit, Max, I was…" As he spoke, he grabbed her arm, planning to tell her that he'd been in Manticore at the time of the murder, that it couldn't possibly have been him.

As soon as Alec touched her, grabbing her arm in almost the exact way that Logan had back at Crash, Max's anger flashed white-hot. The only thing she could think of was how unfair it was that Alec could touch her and Logan couldn't. Alec's words were cut off as she violently shook him off and gave him a shove to the chest.

Alec stumbled backward into the wall of the apartment building, shocked by the violence and anger in Max. His hazel-green eyes met her deep brown, and, in that moment, he realized that Max was completely serious. She had meant every word.

_She thinks you're a killer. _

When Alec spoke again, his voice was hushed, his tone mired in disbelief. "You really think I could do it? You think I could murder someone in cold blood?"

"Yes, Alec, I think you could." Max was so mad at him that she'd snapped out the response without really thinking about it.

She saw something shift in his expression. His face went slack, and she could tell he was trying to hide his feelings like he was trained to do back at Manticore, but his eyes… he couldn't keep the pain and the hurt from showing in those expressive eyes.

For the briefest moment, Max's anger faltered and she felt just a flicker of regret, and something else, some unnamed emotion that wanted to make that hurt look in his eyes go away. It was a strange feeling, and it made her uncomfortable. She didn't want to feel that way. Not about _him_.

Max pushed the feeling aside and gathered her anger around her. She reminded herself that this was Alec, and he didn't give a shit about anything or anybody but himself. She reminded herself of all the times he'd done something stupid, of how many times he had screwed things up. She didn't want to think about the mixed-up emotions she'd been feeling lately when she was around him or thought about him.

All he'd done since she'd met him was complicate her life. It wouldn't be so complicated if he wasn't around any more. Maybe then, she wouldn't be so confused about who she was and what she wanted.

"Better get the hell outta Seattle, Alec, before the cops find you." Max turned and started to head back toward her Ninja. When she reached it, she turned her head, and he could see her profile, the glow from the street lamp at the head of the alley highlighting her features. Her tone, when she spoke her last words to him, was so cold that Alec felt the ice of it in his heart.

"This time, do us all a favor and stay gone."

* * *

Alec watched, stunned, as Max slung a leg over her motorcycle, gunned the engine, and then took off, leaving him behind. He was speechless. He just stood there, in the alley behind his building, staring after her for a full minute, his mind unwilling to believe what had just happened.

Suddenly, there was a horrible ache in his chest, making it hard to breathe. It reminded him of when they'd put you in the tank back at Manticore, to see how long you could go without breathing, and you felt like your lungs were gonna burst before they'd let you out.

The one person he had thought he could count on had turned her back on him. Sure, they had started out on the wrong foot, but he thought that things had changed at some point along the way. Even though they still fought all the time, he'd thought that her hatred of him had cooled, that she even sort of trusted him. He'd always been there when she asked, had her back when she needed him.

And she _had_ needed him. She'd called him, asked for his help, time and time again, and the first time he gets hung up, which was completely not his fault, she turned on him. She wanted him gone. She'd be happier if he just dropped of the face of the earth.

He felt betrayed.

A little voice in his head started speaking to him. It was the same inner voice that used to speak to him those last six months he had spent in Psy Ops, when they were trying to figure out if he was as crazy as his twin. The one that had started talking to him back when they had fucked with his head so badly, he hadn't been sure of who he was anymore. At the reappearance of the voice he'd thought was long gone, a voice from the most horrific period of his life, Alec closed his eyes and clenched his jaw to keep it from trembling as that dreaded voice spoke to him.

_All this time you've known each other, and she thinks you're a heartless, cold-blooded killer. _

_She doesn't need you. She doesn't give a damn about you. _

_No one does. _

_You've got nothing. Nobody._

_She thinks you're nothing more than what Manticore made you. _

_A killer._

Alec slowly opened his eyes, staring off into the distance but not really seeing. "Maybe she's right," he whispered aloud.

Alec felt like something inside his chest broke, and he was overwhelmed by a flood of painful emotion.

It was too much to bear. He didn't know how to deal with it. He started to shut down, just like they taught him back at Manticore.

He had told Max once that Manticore had ways of making you not care, and that's what he wanted to do. He wanted _not_ to care. He did what Manticore had taught him, taking everything that made him more than just 494, everything that made him _Alec_, and locked it away, hiding it deep in the recesses of his mind. Alec was the one in pain, so he would just stop being Alec.

Everything that made him who he was slid away. He became a shell. No emotion. No feeling. No pain. It was gone. Everything but the little voice that continued to whisper in his mind…

_Killer._

* * *

A/N: You may be wondering which direction this story will be taking. Is this a Max/Alec story, or a Max/Logan, or no ship at all? I don't really wanna tell, because I don't want to give anything away, but those of you that have read my previous stories could probably take a guess. I make no promises, however. You'll just have to hang in and see where this goes.

Oh, and try not to hate Max. She's only human. Well, human_ish_, anyway.

Please review. My muse needs a fix.


	2. Nobody Home

Gone

By Inzane

Disclaimer: Folks with a lot more money than me own Dark Angel. None of that money is coming my way.

Summary: How much abuse can a guy take before he snaps? Events in Hello, Goodbye take a different turn. AU from that point.

A/N: I would like to thank everyone who has reviewed this story. My muse is alive and kickin', thanks to you guys. Felt like this chapter just poured right out of me.

* * *

Chapter 2: Nobody Home

Logan Cale's fingers flew furiously across his keyboard--his fingers as frantic as his thoughts. He needed to know what the hell Max had gotten herself into. If she ended up getting hurt or in trouble because of whatever stupid thing Alec had done this time, Logan would kill him. While he worked, he kept one ear tuned to his police scanner in case something came across about the two of them.

Original Cindy had called him a little while ago and told him about what Max planned to do. He remembered the cold feeling in the pit of his stomach as Max's friend told him what was going down.

_**Hey, Logan, it's me.**__ Logan had been so distracted at the time, that he hardly registered the words. When he hadn't responded right away, he'd heard an exasperated sigh on the other end of the phone. __**Original Cindy.**_

"_Hey, Cindy," Logan replied, puzzled, wondering why Max's best friend would be calling him when Max herself had said it was over. He couldn't stop himself from asking the next question. "How's Max?"_

_**Havin' a little trouble dealing with this whole thing, same as you, I 'magine. But that's not why I called. Girlfriend is walkin' into the lion's den, and I just wanted to make sure someone else knew, 'case she needed backup.**_

"_Lion's den? Cindy, what..." Logan began, completely confused._

_**Alec got arrested, and she's gonna go bail him out before they figure out he's more human than human, know what I'm sayin'?**_

_Logan felt a range of emotions roll over him. There was worry for Max, and fear. Curiosity about what Alec had done, and a smug sense of superiority and satisfaction that the rogue X-5 had finally been caught out at his own game._

"_What'd he do now?" he asked._

_**Dunno. But Max is gonna see to it he don't stay there for long. Maybe you can keep your eyes and ears open, you know, in case things go south. Maybe call in Asha's buddies, if needed.**_

"_Of course. Call me if you hear anything else." Cindy must have sensed what he was thinking, because her next words cut off the direction of his thoughts. _

_**Mmmhmm. Oh, and don't go pagin' her, 'cause she dunno I'm calling you on this.**_

_Logan felt a wave of disappointment. He had hoped that Max had asked Cindy to call. "Okay," he replied, but his tone belied his sincerity._

_**I mean it, Logan. Max'll put the smackdown on Original Cindy if she finds out I called you. Don't you do anything 'less you have to.**_

_Logan sighed, remaining hopes dashed. "I promise I won't page her."_

_**All right. Well, um … glad you're alive and everything. Later, Logan. And thanks.**_

As soon as he'd hung up the phone, he'd thrown himself down in front of his computer and started hacking into the Seattle PD database. When he heard news of an escape from the police station--with shots fired--come across his scanner, he began to type even faster. He couldn't help Max if he didn't have all the details. A couple more keystrokes and he should be in.

"Gotcha," Logan said, straightening his glasses as he began to search for the file on Alec's arrest. When he found the file, his eyes opened wider when he read the charge: Murder in the First Degree.

The first thing that Logan thought was that his fears about Alec had been right all along. The guy was more than just a sociopath--he was a murderer. Max should never have busted him out. He deserved to be in jail. But when Logan clicked in to find out more details about Alec's crime, he realized that he was wrong. As he read on, reading the details of the crime and recognizing it for what it was, he knew that Alec didn't deserve to be in jail. His brother Ben did, but Ben was far beyond the reach of human justice now. Manticore had seen to that.

Logan was slightly ashamed of the trace of disappointment he felt. A part of him wanted his fears about Alec to be justified. The man had been a constant thorn in his side when it came to his relationship with Max, and it would have been so much easier if Alec had been the horrible person Logan feared--_wanted_--him to be. Then maybe he wouldn't have seen him as competition for Max's affections.

Logan stood up and began to pace. Thank God his legs were working again, because pacing in a wheelchair was not as satisfying and a lot more difficult. He had to know what happened to Max. The report on the police scanner had said that shots had been fired. What if Max had been hurt?

He picked up the phone but then paused, remembering his promise to Original Cindy. Max hadn't wanted him involved. She wanted to handle it on her own. She didn't need him.

Logan gripped the phone tighter. Max could be lying somewhere in an alley, bleeding from a gunshot wound. Was he just supposed to stand idly by while the woman he loved risked herself for a selfish jerk?

No, he would not.

He punched in the numbers that he knew by heart, and then waited for a moment until it prompted him to enter his number. He punched it in, then set down the phone on the end of his desk. Now he would wait.

He took to pacing again. After fifteen minutes and no response, he paged her again.

He walked over to the window, gazing out into the Seattle night for a while, but he found himself turning back to stare at the silent phone. A half an hour passed since the last time he paged her, but his phone still did not ring. The offending item sat on the end of his desk, its silence like an insult, just another sign of his deteriorating relationship with Max. Because somehow, he knew that the phone wasn't silent because she was hurt and couldn't call, but because she was fine and just didn't _want_ to call.

As he stared at the phone, each tick of the clock like a tiny jab at his heart, he felt himself pulled toward it again. He tried to resist. He didn't want to come off like he was pushing. The pull was too great, however, and he found himself surging across the room to snatch the phone off the desk once again. Again, he punched in the numbers he had punched in so many times before.

And again, there was silence.

He waited an hour this time. He went back to his computer and checked police reports, hospital reports, anything that might give him an idea of what had happened to her. But there was nothing. It seemed as if the whole world conspired to keep him from Max.

No. It wasn't the whole world. _It was Alec_.

Logan felt his anger rise. Alec was the cause of all of this. Alec was the one that had let Max infect him with the virus. Alec was the one that had ruined their chances of finding a cure. Alec was the one that had, indirectly, caused him to almost die from the virus and Max to end their relationship because of it. Alec was the cause for everything wrong in his life, and _he_ was the one that Max was out there risking herself for, right now.

Alec may have been innocent of the crime that he'd been arrested for, but in Logan's book, he was guilty as sin.

It seemed like Max had been a lot more involved with Alec lately. He saw it that night, when he had forgotten himself and carelessly grabbed Max's arm.

Logan leaned back in his computer chair, reaching up to take off his glasses, tossing them onto his desk. He screwed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to get rid of the headache that he felt building.

He had to stop jumping to conclusions. That was what had gotten him into trouble in the first place. There wasn't anything going on between Max and Alec. She was just helping out a fellow transgenic. That was all there was to it.

Logan wanted to believe that, but he remembered the look on Max's face after he had interrupted her and Alec that night. She'd been distracted. Kept telling him that she was tired, that it was nothing.

But it hadn't looked like nothing.

Logan opened his eyes, his gaze going unerringly to the phone. He started to reach for it, then stopped himself, arm hovering over the phone. He wasn't sure he wanted to do it. He didn't want to confirm his fears.

A vision of Max's face flashed in front of his eyes, as he had seen her last at Crash, when she had looked at him with remorse as they had both realized what he had done. He made up his mind, and picked up the phone.

He entered her pager number one last time. When it prompted him for the callback number, he entered his digits. His thumb hovered over the pound sign for a second, then hesitantly moved back up to the number pad. Clenching his jaw as he did it, he added three more numbers to the page.

4. 9. 4.

He hit the pound sign, then hung up the phone.

Logan began to pace again. He was conflicted. He desperately wanted to hear from Max, but at the same time, he didn't want those three numbers to be the thing that would get her to call him back.

He was afraid that if Max called him now, after he had entered those numbers, that it might mean something. It might mean that there _was_ more to Max and Alec than what he had thought. He once again found himself in front of his windows, staring out into the night.

_**Was **__there more to Max and Alec?_

Fifteen minutes later, he thought he had his answer.

* * *

Each minute that passed without a call, Logan felt the tension in his shoulders ease. At the same time, he felt stupid that he had actually paged Max in the hope that she _wouldn't_ call him back.

He was sitting on his sofa, the only light coming from his computer screen. His eyes were starting to close from fatigue. He let his head fall back against the cushions, just about to drift off, when Max's voice called out softly to him.

"Logan."

He bolted upright, searching the room for her. He hadn't heard her come in, as usual. After a moment, he spotted her in a dark corner next to the windows. She wasn't looking at him. Her gaze was fixed on the Seattle skyline. She looked … unapproachable.

"Max?" he asked hesitantly, getting up from the couch and moving around it so he could see her better. Now that she was here, he wasn't sure what to say to her, where to begin.

"What do you know about Alec?" Max asked quietly, her face and tone devoid of emotion.

Logan felt his throat tighten at those words. This was the first time he had seen her since the accident. He had expected as least a _hey, how ya doin', are you all right _kind of thing, but there was none of that. No, the first thing she did was ask about Alec. She had ignored his pages until he had added Alec's designation to the page. Only then had she replied, and not by just calling, but by showing up in person.

He was afraid to think about what that actually implied.

It hurt, but he pushed his own feelings aside. Who knew what she had gone through to bust Alec out? Something could have happened… someone might have gotten hurt. He took a step toward her, and he couldn't help but reach for her, though he knew he couldn't touch.

At his movement, Max flinched and took a small step back. "Don't," she said sharply.

Logan froze. He had no idea what had happened earlier that night, but he could see that Max was very upset. Her step back had taken her out of the shadow, and he looked her up and down, trying to see if she was wounded.

She looked so unlike herself in the rumpled pants suit that must have been her disguise to infiltrate the police station. Her hair was windblown, and when he looked closer, he could see that her knuckles looked bruised and scraped. She must have been out all night.

Logan swallowed hard, then motioned to her hands. "What happened?" he asked, using a soothing tone.

Max met his eyes for the briefest moment, and Logan was shocked at the pain he saw there. His face must have shown his reaction, because she immediately looked away, her face turning to stone.

"Nothing," she replied coldly.

Max closed her eyes as the events of earlier that night began to replay in her head. After Max had left Alec at his apartment building, turning her back on him forever, she'd rode through the streets of Seattle for an hour, trying to clear her mind. She'd expected to feel relieved that Alec was out of her life for good. But when the anger-induced adrenalin began to fade, she didn't feel relief. She was suddenly overcome with anxiety, and a hint of doubt. What if she had gotten it wrong? There could have been extenuating circumstances. It could have been self-defense. She hadn't bothered to ask any questions once they'd told her he killed somebody, that there was a DNA match. And no matter what she did, she couldn't forget that look on his face, when she'd snapped that yes, she did think he could kill in cold blood.

The ride on her baby hadn't helped clear her muddled thoughts, so she had gone to the Space Needle to think. Each time her pager had gone of, she had glanced down at the number, secretly hoping each time that she would see Alec's cell number. She tried to hold on to her anger, but eventually, when the beginnings of guilt began to creep up on her, she was in such inner turmoil that she'd smashed her fists into the metal beneath her multiple times, trying to use physical pain to override the mental.

If only it had worked.

"It's nothing…" Max said again, unconsciously pulling at the ends of her sleeves to try to hide the damage.

Logan frowned. "Doesn't look like nothing." He paused for a moment, not wanting to bring the topic back up but knowing that he had to. "Did that happen when you broke him out?"

"No." Max didn't offer any further explanation, but instead edged deeper into the shadows, further away from Logan.

When Max didn't elaborate, Logan spoke again, trying to get Max talking, "Original Cindy called me. She wanted me to know what was going down. In case you might need backup."

Max's eyes darkened at what felt like yet another betrayal. She would deal with Original Cindy later.

Logan shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, not sure how to deal with Max in her current state. "You can talk to me, Max. You know that."

He waited for her to speak, but she remained stubbornly silent. It felt like there was a huge gulf between them, and it was more than just the physical distance. "You can't hurt me by talking. And you look like you could use a friend right now."

"Why'd you page me with that number?" _**His**_ _number_, she added silently, feeling a stab of pain at the mere thought of him. She was still too overcome by conflicting emotions--anger and hurt battling with doubt and an increasing sense of guilt. She had almost made up her mind to hunt him down and work this shit out, one way or another, when Logan had paged her with Alec's designation tacked on.

Logan took a few steps backward and sat down on edge of his desk. "Why don't you tell me what happened, then I'll fill in the blanks with what I found out." He could have told her what he knew, but he figured this would be the best way to get Max to talk to him.

Max took a deep breath. Then, she haltingly began to tell Logan how she had broken Alec out of jail, and what had happened after. "He killed somebody," she said in a hushed whisper.

Logan was a bit shocked at the disbelief in her voice. Max had to know that Alec had killed a lot of people during his time as an assassin for Manticore. He must have let the shock show in his face, because he saw her brow crinkle in what almost appeared to be annoyance.

"This wasn't like Manticore. He didn't have a choice then." _We_ didn't have a choice, her mind added. "I thought he'd changed, that he wasn't Manticore, but he went and killed somebody."

Logan raised his eyebrows. Max didn't know. She thought Alec had really killed someone. Logan had thought that Max had known it was Ben's crime, and _that _was why she broke Alec out. He had thought that part of the reason she was so upset was because she had been reminded of her poor, crazy, dead brother. But she didn't even know about that. Max was upset about what she thought Alec had done, and she had busted him out, even though she thought he was a killer.

Logan felt his chest tighten at the thought that Alec could cause such strong emotions in Max, and that she would protect him even knowing what he had done--what she _thought_ he had done. He hesitated, wondering if he really wanted to set her straight.

"Why'd he have to go and kill somebody?" Max whispered, letting her head fall forward to rest against the cool glass of the window. Her tone was full of such disappointment and sadness, that Logan knew he had to tell her.

"I don't think he did, Max." He turned around to grab a stack of printouts on his desk, then held them out to her. "Look."

Max just stared at the papers in Logan's hands, unwilling to close the distance between them, to put Logan at risk. She was uncomfortable even being in the same room with him. Seeing Max's reluctance, Logan set the stack of papers on the end of his desk and backed away. Max slowly came forward and picked up the papers, watching Logan warily the entire time, then she moved until she was once again by the windows. She scanned the papers with transgenic speed, and Logan saw her face go white.

"_Ben_._"_

"Yeah," Logan added quietly.

Max closed her eyes once more, this time against the painful memories that rushed to the surface at the memory of her brother--the brother whose life she had taken. She didn't want to relive those memories, so she focused on the other implication of Logan's information--Alec was innocent. He would have been locked up in a cell at Manticore when Ben had killed Timothy Ryan.

"Guess I owe him an apology," Max sighed.

Now that there was no cause for her anger, it faded away and she could think clearly once more. The hint of guilt that she had been feeling became full blown and overpowering. It was lowering, to realize how unjustly she had accused him.

Max shook her head, in disbelief at herself and her behavior toward him more than anything else. "He'd tried to tell me, but I didn't listen. I was so mad. I told him to leave and never come back."

Logan started talking, but she wasn't listening to him. She was remembering the last words she had said to Alec--_do us all a favor and stay gone_. She had been such a bitch to him. She was always such a bitch to him, but this time, she'd gone over the top. He had every right to hate her.

Max's brain was suddenly engaged in fierce denial. She tried to convince herself that this incident would roll off Alec, like all the others had. She'd explain, and everything would be cool between them. They'd find a way to clear him of the charges, and they could go back to the way things were.

Once again, the memory of Alec's face at those last words swam in front of her eyes, and she began to doubt. What if he had listened to those words, taken them to heart?

_He wouldn't have left. Not yet. Not when he knew he was innocent. He's probably hanging at my apartment, waiting to give me hell._

Max felt her heart rate increase, felt the blood pulse faster through her veins.

_What if he's already gone?_

Max was suddenly restless, pushed by sense of urgency. _He can't be gone yet. Please, don't let him be gone._

Max pushed away from the window, crumpling the papers in her hand. "I gotta find him, Logan. I gotta find him right now," she blurted out, dropping the papers on the floor and turning to head for the door.

Logan blinked a few times while his head turned to follow her retreat, mouth still hanging open from when Max had interrupted him with her outburst. Max hadn't heard a word he said for the past two minutes. She'd been too busy thinking about Alec.

Max called back to him as she moved toward the door, not even turning to look at him. Her words came out in a rush. "Can you do me a favor and get some documents made that would clear him? Can't have him continue to be hunted by the police. Beep me when you get it. We'll probably be holed up at Joshua's. Thanks!"

Max didn't wait for his answer, just went out the door in a blur, leaving it hanging wide open.

"Sure, Max," Logan said to the empty doorway. His voice sounded tired. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. He _felt _tired.

Logan turned around and slowly walked over to his desk to retrieve his glasses, putting them back on. Then he walked over to the window, to the same exact spot that Max had stood a brief moment ago. He could see the mark from where she had rested her head against the window. He reached up and traced a wide circle around the mark with a fingertip, careful not to come in contact with any remaining DNA that might have been left on the window.

He began to brood. He kept thinking about the look of deep concern on Max's face. He'd never seen that look in relation to Alec before. Now that he thought about it, it seemed like the past month or two, Max had done nothing but talk about Alec. True, she'd usually been bitching about him, but it seemed like the X-5 was always on her mind. He hadn't thought much about it until now.

He couldn't help but notice how she'd said _**we'll**__ be holed up at Joshua's_. _We_, as in Max and Alec. Together. This thought made his memory slip to the last time he had seen them together, at Crash. He remembered butting in on the conversation Max and Alec had been having, the one that had caused him to grab Max's bare arm and almost get himself killed. He remembered the spike of jealousy he had felt, that had pushed him to interrupt them, because part of him realized how right they looked together.

There always seemed to be fireworks when Max and Alec were together, while he and Max had nothing but a slow burn that seemed to him to be threatening to flicker out.

Logan knew it was beneath him to think it, but he couldn't help but hope that it was too late. Couldn't help but hope that Alec was already gone. Maybe then, he and Max could get back to where they were before Alec's whirlwind presence came into their lives.

* * *

Max burst through Alec's apartment door, panicking a bit when she found it unlocked. She had already been to her place, hoping that he had been waiting for her, but he wasn't. As soon as she barged into Alec's apartment, it took only one glance around to see that he was gone. It looked like he had tossed the place, grabbing what he needed and then throwing the rest wherever it fell. Max's chest was constricted with anxiety, but she also felt a tinge of anger. Of all the times she'd asked Alec to do something, _now_ he decided to listen?

She tried to think of where he would have gone, but she was having a hard time concentrating. She felt this uncontrollable, overwhelming urge to find him so she could explain herself, and it was confusing her thoughts. She did what she always did when she was confused--contacted the one person that could help talk her down.

She blurred out of Alec's apartment to the payphone down the street. She plunked in some change, then hastily punched in the numbers she needed.

_You hittin' up Original Cindy, and it better be damn good, 'cause I was 'bout to get my swerve on with this fine shorty..._

Max blew out a breath in relief. "Cindy, it's me. You seen Alec around?"

_Haven't. _Cindy lowered her voice before speaking again. _Thought you was bailin' his ass out?_

"Didn't work out that way. Had to bust him out."

_Then why you askin' me, Boo?_

Max let her head fall forward, smacking it into the payphone. "We just sorta had this fight after, and I kinda said some things I shouldn't, and now I can't find him."

Max heard OC sigh dramatically. _What you two crazy cats fightin' 'bout now?_

"I sorta ... called him a murderer and told him to leave town." Max cringed. It sounded even worse when she said it out loud.

_He murder somebody?_ _Really?_

Max shook her head, even though OC couldn't see it. "No. It was all a big misunderstanding. I screwed up, Cindy."

_Thought that was __**his **__job. _

Max let out a barking laugh, bordering on the edge of hysteria. "I gotta find him and square it with him. Before it's too late."

_Girl, you two gotta work out some issues. _

Max smacked her head against the payphone again. "Tell me about it."

_Well, Original Cindy hasn't laid eyes on your boy. Hey, Sketchy. Git yo' ass over here, fool._ There was a pause, and Max assumed Sketchy was making his way over to OC. _You seen Alec? _

Max could hear Sketchy's reply in the background. _No. He get bailed out or something?_ _Man, I gotta hit him up for the details._

_Never mind_, OC told Sketchy. _You hear that, Max_?

"Yeah," Max said with a disappointed sigh. "I was just hopin'."

_Good luck finding him, Boo. If anybody can do it, you can._

"Yeah. Guess I just needed to talk to you more than anything else." Max paused and took a deep breath, running a hand through her tangled hair. "Page me if you hear anything?" she added, her tone hopeful.

_Sure thing. OC's eyes are peeled._

* * *

Max hung up the phone and tried not to worry. She bit her thumbnail for a moment, thinking. Talking to OC had settled her down a bit, like it usually did. After a moment, the answer came to her, so clear that she cursed herself for not thinking it before.

Joshua. Alec probably went to lay low at Joshua's.

Max smacked herself in the forehead._ Stupid! _She had even told Logan that Joshua's would be where they holed up. It made sense that Alec would head there himself. Max got back on her Ninja and began to speed toward Joshua's house.

_Alec wouldn't have left, especially when he knew he was innocent. _Max kept telling herself that, hoping to make it true.

Max came to a skidding halt in front of the old house, jumping off her bike and running up the steps. She burst through the door, only to be grabbed as soon as she cleared door. She let out a yelp and prepared to defend herself until she realized it was Joshua that had grabbed her.

"Sorry," the big transhuman said, awkwardly trying to straighten Max's clothes. "Scared Joshua."

Max grabbed Joshua's arm, pulling him deeper into the house, all the while scanning for Alec. She could smell his scent lingering in the room. She was somewhat startled by how easily she recognized his scent, and even more startled by the comforting feeling that went with it.

"Where's Alec... " Max started to ask, finally turning back to Joshua. The words died in her mouth when she saw the expression on Joshua's face. For a moment, it reminded her of how he looked after he'd been forced to kill his brother, Isaac. Then it changed, morphing into anger, and she took an involuntary step back from him.

"Gone," Joshua replied, his voice gruff. He reached forward and wrapped his huge hands around Max's upper arms. "What did Max do?"

Max closed her eyes against that accusing gaze, but they flew open wide when Joshua gave her a little shake.

"Came to get some stuff. Scared Annie away. Said he was leaving. Said Max told him to go. Joshua said Max wouldn't do that, but Alec not listen. Like he was already gone. Empty inside. What did Max do?"

Max could tell Joshua was upset with her from the way he kept calling her Max instead of Little Fella. Joshua had liked Alec from the beginning, even after the whole incident when Alec had tried to kill them. He'd painted that picture representing Alec, the one with the riot of color on the outside and dark on the inside--the painting that Joshua had refused to sell. The dog man had always understood Alec better than she ever had.

"I made a mistake," Max said quietly, then sat down on the couch, staring in shock.

She was too late. Alec was gone.

Joshua sat down beside Max and wrapped a big arm around her, letting go of his anger. He could see how upset she was, and was a little worried by how pale she suddenly looked.

"He left," Max said, still staring blindly. "I can't believe he actually left." She shook herself, her vision clearing. She tried to brush it off, to swallow the panicky feeling rising in her throat.

"He left before and he came back. Don't worry, Josh. He'll be back. He always comes back."

Joshua gave Max a little reassuring squeeze. "Sure, Little Fella. Alec come back."

Joshua knew he was humoring her. Max would have to deal with the consequences of what she'd done, but that would come soon enough. He'd seen the look in Alec's eyes--it was like a big, blazing vacancy sign over some seedy motel. Nobody home. He'd never seen Alec like that, even the time he had gotten all messed up and confused and had played the piano in the basement.

Joshua hadn't said goodbye to the Alec he knew--that Alec was already gone. And Joshua didn't think he was coming back.

Ever.

* * *

A/N: My evil nature requires that I leave you hanging at this juncture. Tune in next time to find out if Max is right … _does_ Alec always come back?

Please review. Feedback helps me write faster. No, really. It does!


	3. Absence and the Heart

Gone

By Inzane

Disclaimer: Just playing around in the Dark Angel universe. I don't own it, and the paychecks certainly aren't making their way to my door.

Summary: How much abuse can a guy take before he snaps? Events in Hello, Goodbye take a different turn. AU from that point.

A/N: Just a reminder that this story is AU from the series. Freak Nation never happened. Max was never exposed as a Transgenic. She's still living under the radar, waging a cold war against the Familiars and dodging the government. Oh, and no runes, because I absolutely **HATE!!!** that plotline from the original series.

Just FYI, I am currently plagued by insomnia--no big, happens a couple of times a year and I'm kinda used to it now--so I've had extra time to write. Please don't hold me to these update standards in the future. I don't think I could take the pressure.

Warning: Language and serious introspection. Sorry, but I really had an urge to get inside their heads with this story. Just bear with me for a while.

* * *

Chapter 3: Absence and the Heart

Max was wrong. Alec didn't come back.

She sat on the edge of the Space Needle, chin resting on her knees, and watched the sky gradually change color as the sun came up. She spent a lot of time there, lately.

For months now, she'd been unable to sleep at night. It seemed the only time she could get some rest was if she took short naps during the day. She would've liked to blame it on her shark DNA, but she knew that wasn't the reason. She hated lying there in her bed, staring at the ceiling for hours, so she'd taken to climbing the Space Needle to watch the sunrise and ponder the mess her life had become.

It had been eight months. Eight months since the night Alec had disappeared from her life. Eight months since she had made the worst mistake of her life.

Life went on.

She worked. She ate. On rare occasion, she slept. She hung out at Crash with her friends, just as she had always done. She and her fellow transgenics waged their cold war with the Familiars, fortunately able to stay just one step ahead of the breeding cult. She could walk the streets, as long as she took care to laser off her barcode.

Terminal City had become the secret fortress for those of them that could not walk among humans without acknowledging what they were. Those that could walk the streets did what they could to help those that could not, stealing supplies and food for TC. They had lost a few of their brethren, like Mule and Biggs, but they persevered. They would fight until the end, to the last man if that was what it took.

Every time a transgenic fell, Max felt the pain of each loss, but none hurt like the loss of Alec.

Even though it had been eight months, she kept expecting to turn around and find him there, his smirk and laughing eyes taunting her. Eight months, and she found that she still was completely unprepared to deal with just how much she missed him.

"_Dammit_," she whispered hoarsely to the rising sun, not sure what--or whom--she was cursing. She lowered her head until her forehead rested on her knees, then she closed her eyes and sighed.

_I miss your laughter and your stupid stories. I miss those green-gold eyes of yours that were always so full of mischief. I miss that smirk, the one that had girls falling at your feet. I miss the way you'd purposely piss me off to get my mind off of things. I miss having you at my back when I'm pulling a job. God, I even miss your never-ending chatter. I never realized how much all of these things meant to me until you were gone._

Max tried, but she couldn't hold back the single sob that escaped her lips.

_I miss you, Alec, and I want you back._

* * *

Logan slouched in his chair, tapping half-heartedly at his keyboard, replying to an email. He'd found it hard to concentrate, lately. He'd actually found it hard to concentrate for the past couple of months, and his Eyes Only work had suffered for it. He was bogged down by a crusade that was not his own, a mission that he didn't want. But Max had asked him for his help, and he couldn't refuse her. So he sat in his chair and slowly tapped keys, looking for information he really didn't want to find. Looking for news of Alec.

Ever since Alec had left town, Logan had noticed a change in Max. It seemed that some of her fire had faded, that she'd somehow become... less. As time wore on, she'd become increasingly frantic about finding him--a guy she supposedly couldn't stand. It had become an obsession with her, more than finding her siblings had ever been, and Logan had allowed her to drag him into it.

He figured it was the only reason Max still hung around, after that scare with the virus. Because she needed his help. To find _him_. Logan could barely bring himself to even think his name. He couldn't stand to see the look in her eyes when he said _that name_.

Max's obsession had started to dig at him recently, like a splinter under the skin that went unnoticed for a while, but when ignored it became an infection. At first, he had managed to convince himself that it was just simple guilt. Max had made a mistake, and she wanted to fix things, to right a wrong. But as the months rolled by, and Max's devotion to finding Alec didn't waver, Logan began to doubt himself. It made him once again start to wonder what had really been going on with Max and Alec, so many months ago.

He thought about it now, as he moved on to the next message with a click, without really seeing the previous. Had Max been cheating on him? Could it even be called cheating? He and Max hadn't had a truly defined relationship back then--_still_ didn't have a defined relationship. Truth was, he was not really sure where he stood with Max anymore. He knew that she cared about him, but he wasn't sure if it was the same way he cared about her.

His eyes unfocussed until he wasn't staring at his computer screen, but through it.

_Maybe I'm being selfish, holding on to Max as I have, a woman I can't even touch. _

Logan wanted to tell himself that love was more than just the physical act, but a woman like Max--she deserved to be touched. She deserved to share all of her passion with a man who could return it in kind. Maybe Max should be with someone else, and maybe he could live with that … as long as that someone else was not Alec. God, _anyone_ but Alec. The idea of losing Max to him was unbearable.

He didn't want to examine the reason for that too closely, because he knew that the feeling arose from jealousy. Although he had always harbored a deep-seated resentment for the X-5, if he was honest with himself, he knew he had always envied Alec his confidence, his youth, his quick wit, and the sheer pleasure he had seemed to take from life. Logan himself couldn't remember the last time he had done something just for the fun of it; for years he'd been too wrapped up in his mission to save the world, or at least save as much of it as he could. Maybe that was pull that Alec had always had on Max--he'd been fun to be around. No one ever accused the great Eyes Only of being a load of fun. What was it that Max had said to him the night that had changed his life, eight months ago?

_All work and no play makes Logan a dull, dull boy._

Logan frowned at the direction his inner thoughts had taken, and was just about to delete the current message on his screen without even reading it, when he froze. Two words suddenly stood out on his screen, words that caused his heart rate to increase.

The message was from one of his more reliable contacts, a guy in deep with the Russian mob. He'd moved down to California a couple of months ago. The message only contained a contact number and a brief note that said, "Call me if you want to talk about one of those **freaks** with the **barcode**."

Logan picked up the phone and immediately dialed the number. After the third ring, his contact, a man he knew only as Lenny, answer with a brusque, _Yeah_.

"Lenny," Logan asked. "You've got some news for me?"

_Might. Could be I know something 'bout one of those freaks you been askin' 'bout. _

Logan leaned over to grab a pen and a notepad from the corner of his desk. "And just what will it take to get you to tell me about it?" He knew how these people worked, and they gave nothing away for free.

_Got me some minor charges that could use some help with. Nothin' serious. Just Possession and Assault. Coupl'a fines, too. Be nice if that little info just disappeared from my record._

Logan clenched his jaw at this. He didn't want to help this man escape justice, but he had no choice. Lenny wasn't too bright--if he was, he wouldn't divulge information that could get him killed in a heartbeat--but he was one of Logan's best contacts and had intimate connections with the mob. He couldn't afford to lose him.

"Could be Eyes Only could help you out with that. Tell me what you know."

_What, you think I'm gonna spill before you wipe me clean?_

Logan smiled, though no one would have mistaken it for a friendly gesture. "Yes, Lenny, I think you will. You see, I've already accessed your records, and with a couple of keystrokes, I could tack Murder One right on there. Let's see if they believe you, fine upstanding citizen that you are, when you tell them that it's not true."

_Hold up! Hold up, man! No need to be that way. I was just jokin' and all._

"Yes, you're a very funny man," Logan replied, deadpan. "Now tell me what I want to know."

_Well, see, we got this fight club, here in LA. Big money, real exclusive-like. Boss has me working security past couple of months. Only the richest of the rich and the most powerful of the powerful get in. Bloodsport kind of thing. Not all the combatants make it outta the ring, if you know what I'm sayin'. Anyway, it's real hush-hush, very under the radar, so the government won't come in and snatch their big moneymaker._

Logan made every effort to keep his tone even, but he could feel every beat of his heart in his chest. "And what would that be, Lenny?"

_One of those freaks, like's always in the news up your way. Goes by 949, or 499... can't remember. He don't talk much, but I caught one of his matches and, man, that fucker can fight! Got one of those barcode things on the back of his neck._ _Hear he can't be beaten, no matter how many they send against him. Here, send you a picture. Snapped it last week when the others weren't watchin'._

There was a pause, as Lenny was apparently fiddling with his cell phone. A few moments later, Logan's computer gave a soft beep as he received another email. He clicked on the message to open it and view its contents.

Logan's heart skipped a beat.

_So, you gonna fix me up or what? Boss finds out I got a record again, he's gonna be pissed. Likes us squeaky clean, nothin' to draw attention.._

Logan stared at the picture in front of him. He felt the muscles in his arm tense, and his hand seemed to move of its own accord, pushing the mouse up until the pointer hovered over the delete button. His felt his finger begin slowly to exert pressure on the mouse button, but he stopped himself when he realized what he was doing and shakily pulled his hand away.

He thought of Max, whose sad eyes had haunted him these past eight months, and he made his decision. "It's as good as done," he said into the phone. "Give me the details on the club and how I can get in."

* * *

Logan would have paged Max, but he needed time to think. He lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, its blank surface a contrast to the riot of thoughts in his head. It seemed like everything was suddenly happening too fast. For the past eight months, there hadn't even been a whisper about Alec, and now... Logan knew exactly where he was, down to the latitude and longitude.

He thought for a moment about not telling Max, but immediately pushed that thought away. He couldn't keep things from her. He was not a lying, cheating sociopath (_like Alec_, the petty little part of him that he refused to recognize existed added). If he and Max were going to make it, they would do so because he was a better man than Alec. And Logan realized that honesty was one of the few areas where he could compete with Alec and win.

Logan also knew that he couldn't keep watching Max torture herself, blaming herself for sending Alec away. Max needed to resolve this thing with Alec, so she could move on.

So _we _can move on, his mind added.

* * *

Logan heard Max when she came in. The fact that he heard her let him know just how not okay she was. It seemed that lately, as soon as she entered his apartment, she let the brave face that she put on for the world slip, let the weight of helping her transgenic brethren fall away, and she was no longer a feisty, self-assured tough girl, but a woman buckling under the weight of her guilt.

Logan swung his legs to the edge of his bed and sat up, rubbing the back of his neck to try to ease the tension there. He took a deep breath, then stood, preparing himself to do what he knew he must.

He walked out into the other room, his eyes taking only a moment to find her. She stayed on the other side of the room, as was her habit now. She wasn't going to risk any more accidents.

She looked tired. Logan knew Max had taken a lot on her shoulders, what with trying to help her fellow transgenics. Ever since the cops had publicly killed that transhuman months ago and made tabloid rumors a reality, Max and her people had been at constant risk. She did everything she could to help. It was one of the few things she was interested in aside from finding Alec. As Logan looked at the fatigue evident in Max's face, he wondered if it was her people's situation, or the loss of Alec, that kept her up at night.

"Hey," Max said in a distracted tone, when she finally decided to acknowledge his presence, though she didn't meet his eyes. It drove him up the wall when Max got like that, knowing that she was thinking of _him_. His lower jaw clenched, biting back the acerbic comment that wanted to fly from his mouth. It wouldn't do to get angry with her. She'd just stop showing up for a while, and Logan didn't want that. He knew his relationship with Max was practically non-existent now, but he just couldn't let go.

He almost changed his mind. Maybe he shouldn't tell her. Maybe they should just continue this frustrating non-relationship that they had. Maybe something was better than nothing. His moment of indecision was the very moment Max decided to turn her head and look at him. He saw her eyes widen, and knew that Max sensed that something was up.

"You found something," Max said in a carefully controlled tone, but Logan could hear something else underneath it--hope.

She took several steps toward him. Logan's eyebrows shot up when she didn't stop but continued, coming to within five feet of him. It was the closest Max had come to him in the past eight months.

Max's eyes flicked over him, and he could tell that she was taking in his facial expression, the dilation of his pupils, his breathing, the flush of his skin. He knew she would be able to tell if he lied to her.

"You found him," Max said, staring into his eyes, as if daring him to deny it, to deny the one thing she truly wanted to hear.

Logan hung his head, unable, no, _unwilling_, to watch her reaction when he spoke his next words.

"Yes. I did."

* * *

At his words, Max closed her eyes, and her head fell back slightly as she felt relief wash over her. Her shoulders dropped, months of constant tension draining away. She had to clench her jaw to keep it from trembling.

Alec was alive.

Max had been scared to death that something had happened to him. In the beginning, she had been so sure that Alec would come back. That was what Alec did. She would insult him, or smack him, or push him away, and he would just come back for more. A month had gone by before she began to realize that he was not coming back. Since he didn't come back, she couldn't help but fear that he didn't come back because he _couldn't _come back.

But he was alive. Nothing else was more important than that simple, basic fact.

Max let out a sigh of relief, then opened her eyes and lowered her chin, a slight smile on her lips. She found Logan staring at the floor, hands behind his back. Her smile turned to an impatient frown.

"Logan," she called insistently.

His head snapped up, and the look on his face was unreadable. You would have thought _he _had been the one to take Emotional Repression 101 at Manticore.

Since she couldn't grab Logan and shake the information out of him, Max sat down on the couch, drawing up her legs and wrapping her arms around them. She was suddenly transformed, seeming almost like an excited little girl waiting to hear her favorite bedtime story.

"Come on, Logan. You just can't say somethin' like that and clam up. You know patience is not my thing. Spill it!"

Logan felt a slight ache in his chest at how the light came back into Max's eyes, at how animated her voice was once more. It was like her fire was rekindled, and his doubts from earlier that afternoon came roaring back to life. This wasn't about righting a wrong. At the change in her over the discovery of long-lost Alec, he was afraid that it wasn't about that anymore. He was afraid that it might not have ever been just about that. He found a question on his lips, one that he didn't have the guts to voice because he was afraid of the answer: _Just what the hell happened between you and Alec, Max?_

Logan was startled out of his introspection as a soft object suddenly flew through the air and smacked him in the face. He reflexively caught the object as it bounced off of his face, and found that Max had apparently chucked a throw pillow at his head.

"Dammit, Logan, will you quit spacing and tell me what the hell it is you found before I explode!"

Logan closed his eyes for a brief moment and silently counted to five, trying to calm himself. When he opened them again, he found Max literally sitting on the edge of her seat, an expectant look on her face.

Logan walked over to his desk and picked up a manila folder, then walked back and stood a few feet in front of her. "I don't think you're gonna like it." He held the folder out to her, wondering if she would take it from his hands. When she did, he wasn't quite sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Max flipped open the folder and sucked in a breath at the color printout inside. It was Alec, but an Alec so unlike the one that she knew.

He appeared to be in some kind of tunnel or narrow hallway. His back was to the camera, and he was shirtless. His back was no longer smooth perfection, but crisscrossed with light scars and bruises. His hair was now cut ruthlessly close in the back, so his barcode was clearly visible, a defiant announcement of his nature. His face was turned back to the camera so it was in clear profile. His hair in front was long and ragged, and hung down in his eyes, hiding them from the camera. Max found herself taking her finger and gently tracing the offending hair in the picture, wishing she could brush it away from his face so she could see him more clearly. When she realized what she was doing, she pulled her hand back, startled by her own gesture.

"What's happened to you, Alec?" Max whispered quietly, taking in all of the assaults his body had suffered.

"He's in Los Angeles." Logan's voice snapped Max out of her reverie, and she looked up at him, eyebrows raised. Logan took a deep breath, pacing as he continued. "There's a rather exclusive fight club there. Exclusive due to the fact that not all of the fighters live to walk out of the ring, and due to the fact that they have a genetically engineered fighter that they don't want the government to find out about. I'm told he goes by 494."

Max stood so suddenly, that it caused Logan to take a stumbling step backwards, afraid he might come in contact with her. Max didn't seem to notice, but began to pace furiously, hands moving animatedly as she spoke.

"I can't believe it. This is even more idiotic than the last time he was in the ring. He's openly fighting as 494! No way White'll miss this for long. He's gonna get himself killed or captured for sure! Fucking idiot!"

Logan tried and failed to keep from grimacing at Max's tone. It was as if he had stepped back in time over eight months, and Max was once again the tough-girl transgenic bitching about the latest exploits of Alec the Incorrigible.

It was as if finding Alec had brought her back to herself.

Max took a step toward Logan, then blinked and drew up short when she realized what she was doing. _Max, you dumbass_, she thought, _get your head in the game! You're gonna kill Logan if you're not careful! _She took several deliberate steps back, then found herself bouncing on her toes impatiently, desperate to take action now that she had some idea of what action she needed to take.

"I gotta get to him before White does." Max's voice was angry, but her eyes were full of worry. "I've got to get to LA."

Logan bit the inside of his cheek, trying to stop himself from what he was about to do next. But it was inevitable, just as hunting down Alec in the first place had been inevitable. He would be there for Max, because he was incapable of anything else. Even if it was killing him inside.

"Well," he murmured, reaching up to straighten his glasses. "I guess we need a plan."

* * *

A/N: Yes, I know, it is another Alec-free chapter. Alec is in this story. Honest. Just hang in there and you'll see. 


	4. Road Trip

Gone

By Inzane

Disclaimer: I do not own Dark Angel, and I have not made any money from this or any other story.

Summary: How much abuse can a guy take before he snaps? Events in Hello, Goodbye take a different turn. AU from that point.

Warning: Angst, followed by language and bitchiness.

* * *

Chapter 4: Road Trip 

He didn't know what day it was. What did it matter, anyway? Each day was like the next.

Eat. Sleep. Fight. Fuck. Every day, the same.

None of it mattered. Nothing mattered. Life. Death. Either one would suit.

There were no mirrors. Not in the lavish rooms they provided for him. Not in the prep room where he'd wait for his turn to fight. He didn't want to look at himself. It wasn't that he was afraid of what he might see, but more of what he _wouldn't_.

A small part of him knew there was something horribly wrong with him. As time passed, he found he hadn't been completely successful keeping everything that had once been Alec locked away. And that part of him knew that if he looked in the mirror, looked into his own eyes, he would see just how much was _not _there. So he didn't look, and there were no mirrors. Every time he felt that small part of him start to rise, he would shove it back down, burying it a bit deeper each time.

_Because he didn't want to feel._

"You ready?"

The voice called out to him from the tunnel. He didn't know the man's name. It was unimportant. They were all unimportant. Just a means to an end. A way to fulfill his purpose. The purpose he was made for.

"Yes," he replied flatly, then rolled his shoulders and turned to enter the tunnel.

It was time to fight.

_This is what you were meant to do_, the voice in his head told him. _This is what they made you for._ _This is your destiny._

He bared his teeth, wishing to silence the voice that spoke to him in his head, knowing that once, long ago, he had banished it. But he was unable to find the means to silence it anymore.

_You. Are. A. Killer._

He exited the tunnel into the light of the sunken ring, hair hanging in slightly greasy strands over his eyes. He heard the voices of the crowd as they erupted in riotous cheers at his appearance. But he could hear one voice above all of the others. The one voice that he would have done anything to silence.

_Killer. Killer. Killer. Killer. Killer. Killer. Killer. Killer._

* * *

"Look, I gotta do this. I'm not asking your permission, here." 

Max stood with her arms crossed, facing down Mole in the room that had become the central command area of Terminal City. She was swiftly losing her temper with the lizard man.

"So you're just gonna go running off to Los Angeles after some guy" Mole's arms were crossed as well, mirroring Max's stance, cigar hanging from the corner of his mouth. "What about the job we got planned for Friday for medical supplies? You just gonna blow that off, Princess?"

Max narrowed her eyes and spoke through clenched teeth, trying to keep a lid on the anger boiling up. "You guys don't need me for the job on Friday. Cece can handle it; I'll make sure she has backup. And Alec's not just some guy, he's one of us."

Mole took a step toward Max, looming over her. "One of _you_, you mean. You X-5s are all alike," he said with a sneer. "You think you're so special. Manticore's perfect creations. Who gives a shit what happens to the basement freaks? What was it you guys called us? _Nomlies_."

Max threw up her hands, exasperated. "For fuck's sake, will you get over it already?! We've been doing what we can to help _all_ the transgenics. It's not like it's our fault that they made us look the way we do. Would you rather we were stuck hiding in here with you, where we couldn't do any good? We're your eyes and ears out there. When are you gonna get that through your thick, scaly skull?" She punctuated the word _skull _by shoving a finger against said scaly skull.

"The day I need a bitch like you to watch out for my ass…" Mole began, slapping her hand away, but was cut off when Joshua roughly clamped a hand down on his shoulder and pulled him away from Max. "Hey!" Mole exclaimed.

Joshua stood toe to toe with Mole, glaring at him. "_Careful_," he growled, the threat clear from his tone. Joshua was silent, waiting for Mole to make a move. Only when the green transhuman took a step back did Joshua relax his stance. "Little Fella need to go find Alec. Alec a friend, need help. We don't abandon our own."

Mole glanced from Joshua to Max and back again. Both the dog man and the feisty X-5 had similar looks of determination on their faces. Mole figured this guy Alec must be pretty important to them. "You wanna try to get all the way to LA without gettin' caught, be my guest. It's your funeral, " he replied.

Max gave Mole a wry smile. "Been dodgin' the man a lot longer than you, Mole. I think I can handle it."

Mole rolled his shoulders, a practiced look of disinterest on his face. "Not like I give a shit. Do what you want." With that remark, Mole turned and walked away. All of the other transgenics that were in the room suddenly busied themselves with one task or another, pretending that they hadn't been listening the entire time.

Joshua turned to Max, placing his hands lightly on her shoulders and giving her a comforting squeeze. "Wish Joshua could go with you."

Max gave her friend a sympathetic look. "You know it's too dangerous, Joshua. We'd never make it past the search at Border Control." When Joshua's face fell, Max reached up to touch his cheek. "I'm sorry, Big Fella. I know you want to help."

Joshua reached up to cover Max's hand with his own. "Come back safe, Little Fella. Come back with Alec. That will be enough for Joshua."

Max had to blink away the sudden moisture in her eyes. She leaned forward, and found herself enveloped in Joshua's huge arms. "I'll miss you, big guy. You take care of yourself, you hear? Be careful."

Joshua hugged her a little tighter. "You too, Little Fella. You too."

* * *

Max and Original Cindy walked through the entrance to Jam Pony side by side. Max was rubbing at the back of her neck, where, less than an hour ago, OC had helped her laser off the slight hint of her barcode. 

"Will you quit pickin' at it!" OC scolded Max, frowning at her. "You're worse than a kid!"

"It itches!" Max complained, rubbing even harder. Cece had been on a job, so she'd asked Original Cindy to help her get rid of the evidence of her transgenic nature. Cindy had not been used to wielding a laser scalpel, and her technique had managed to irritate Max's skin. Max thought she would have to look into stealing a laser scalpel for TC, just so she would'nt have to rely on inexperienced hands.

OC rolled her eyes. "Some super soldier you are," she muttered under her breath, then reached over to slap Max sharply on the hand. "Cut it out!"

Max gave an exaggerated sigh. "Fine!" she huffed, and pulled her collar up to further hide her reddened neck. She turned her head to look at her friend as they approached the dispatch area. "You got my back on this one, right?"

"Original Cindy is offended you would even ask," her friend replied, pursing her lips and drawing back her head, with a y_ou-didn't-even-go-there_ look on her face.

Max looked chagrined for a moment, but then her face was transformed by an excited smile. "Sorry. I'm just excited to be finally _doing _something!"

Original Cindy's lips quirked in a knowing smile. Ever since Max had come back to their apartment, exciting and bubbling over with news of Alec, OC had noticed how different she was. She had become more like her old self again. OC sure hoped that they could find Alec and bring him back, because she didn't want to see Max go back to the zombie she'd been the past couple of months.

The two girls came to a halt in front of the dispatch counter, in front of Normal. Their boss didn't even look up from his clipboard when he addressed them.

"You two," Normal said, glancing at his watch, "showing up on time for work. Hmmm. Either the apocalypse has begun, or you want something that you know I'm not going to give you."

"Well, see, Normal," Max began, leaning on the counter and giving him her best smile, "I sorta need some vacation time, kinda open-ended like."

"Yeah, me too." Original Cindy chimed in. As soon as she said the words, Max turned to her, eyebrows drawn together and silently mouthed _What the hell are you doing?_

_Going with you. I got your back_, OC mouthed back.

_I said back up my story, not go with me!_ Max worded silently.

_Change of plan, _OC silently replied, the look on her face clearly saying that it was useless to argue on this point.

Their silent argument degenerated into a brief, furious exchange, with Max silently insisting Cindy stay and Cindy silently telling her no way, along with a few colorful metaphors thrown in. When Normal finally raised his head to look at them, both girls stopped and turned their heads back to him on cue, broad smiles on their faces, as if nothing had happened.

"Forget it. No way am I gonna hold jobs for you two slackers so you can go off on a little vacation and do whatever it is you females do on such things."

"But we need to..." Max began, but Normal interrupted her by raising his hand. He put his clipboard down and leaned on the counter, looking from one girl to the other.

"Let me put it in simpler words so you can understand it. No show, no job. Comprende? Good." He waved them away dismissively, then picked his clipboard back up and began to check his scheduled deliveries.

"Come on, Normal," OC drawled. "You gotta let us go. How else are we gonna get your Golden Boy back?"

Normal's head shot up at that. "Alec?" There was a look of longing on his face at the mention of Alec's name, which made both Max and OC cringe, a little creeped out.

"Uh, yeah," Max said hesitantly, not wanting to witness any of Normal's Alec fantasies.

"That boy was worth ten of you deadbeats," the man said wistfully, eyes unfocused, and Max figured he was probably conjuring up images of Alec. She couldn't suppress a slight shudder. "Can't believe he quit without notice."

Max shifted a bit, then put on her best look of deep sincerity and concern. "Umm… about that. See, turns out he left because his uncle was real sick. Terminal cancer. He just died. The uncle that is. Not Alec. He's kinda messed up about it. Anyway, Alec's used up all his money to help pay the doctor bills and funeral costs. He's got no way to get home, being completely broke. We thought we'd go help him out. Support him in his time of grief and all. Get him to come back home."

'_Cause I'm not coming back without him, _Max silently added.

Normal shook his head, as if he should have known there was a good reason Alec had left all along. "What a fine, upstanding thing for that young man to do. I knew there had to be a reason he left so suddenly, without even saying a word to me. Why don't I just wire him some money and..."

"_No!_" Max and OC said simultaneously and with more force than necessary. Normal's eyes opened wide, a bit shocked by their reaction.

OC shrugged her shoulders, trying to downplay her and Max's reaction. "You know Alec," she said casually. "Got to much pride to accept handouts. It'll take both of us to convince him to come back."

Normal nodded his head, looking thoughtful. "You may be right. Maybe I should go with you. Who better to convince him how much we need him around here than his former favorite boss?"

Max shared a panicky look with Original Cindy before blurting out, "But Normal, who would keep Jam Pony running like the finely oiled machine it is? I mean, you really can't trust one of the deadbeats around here to keep it afloat, can ya?"

Normal looked around at his employees, his eyes narrowed. Sketchy and Sky were doing some tricks on their bikes, surrounded by a crowd of their coworkers. Loud jeers sounded when Sky lost his balance and crashed into Sketchy, causing both of them to fall. Normal wrinkled his forehead, a pained look on his face.

"Yes. I see your point. I'll give you two weeks, and make sure you don't come back without him." Normal shook his head again. "That boy is too proud for his own good." He looked back at the crowd gathered around Sketchy and Sky. "What's with all the standing around, people? You think I'm running a charity here?" He tossed a package at Sketchy, who managed to catch it but lost his balance once again, falling off his bike. "Bip, bip, bip, you worthless reprobates!"

* * *

"Tell me again why we can't take a plane?" 

Max, who had been leaning over her bed, jamming clothes into a duffel bag, raised her head to look at Original Cindy, who was standing in the doorway of Max's bedroom with her arms crossed. Max reached up to tuck her hair behind her ears, then continued to pack.

"I told you before, there's too much risk, security's too tight. They decide to do a thermal scan, I'm screwed. Logan's got fake passes for all three of us that will get us through all the checkpoints, so driving's the best way."

Original Cindy sighed. "That is a long fuckin' drive, boo."

Max closed her duffel with a swift zip, then slung it over her shoulder as she straightened. "You're the one who insisted on tagging along." She shrugged to adjust the duffel on her back, then pushed past OC and headed for the door.

OC followed, picking up her own duffel that she had left sitting on the couch. As she followed Max out the door, closing and locking it behind her, she shook her head and called out to Max, "I hear long road trips are hell on a sista's pores. Your boy's gonna owe me a facial when we get through savin' his ass."

* * *

Logan watched the numbers on the elevator panel change as it made its way to the garage level. As the car descended, he took several deep breaths, trying to maintain his cool. He'd managed to silence the little voice in his head that had kept telling him for the past hour that _you don't want to do this_, but he was still feeling a bit emotionally unsteady. As the elevator pinged to announce arrival at its destination, Logan straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin. He exited the elevator, pulling his suitcase behind him. No backing out now. 

He found Max and Original Cindy waiting for him near the elevators, sitting on the bumper of a nondescript white cargo van. Original Cindy had pulled her hair back with a bandana, and Max was wearing a backwards baseball cap. Both girls were dressed in loose, comfortable clothing for the trip.

Max's leg was bouncing up and down impatiently as she sat waiting for Logan. When she saw him, she immediately stood, a look of annoyance on her face.

"Finally!" Max exclaimed. "Come on, we gotta blaze. Just toss your stuff in the back and we'll go."

Logan came to a sudden stop, looking at the vehicle in confusion. "Where'd you get the van?"

Max turned and shooed OC from the bumper, then pulled open the back doors of the van. "Don't ask," she replied brusquely.

Logan frowned, then immediately forced his face to relax in what he hoped was casual regard. He tried to keep his disapproval from showing. He knew that Max had gone back to her cat burglar ways in order to help support her fellow transgenics, but he tried not to think about it too much. He'd been on such shaky ground with Max that he'd been afraid to say anything to her that might push her further away than she already was. But this… Grand theft auto was a bit over the top.

"Why can't we take mine?" Logan asked.

Max turned back to him and rolled her eyes. "Please. That hunk of junk would never make it all the way to Los Angeles."

"Word, boo," OC chimed in, leaning against the side of the van. No way was she riding in Logan's piece of shit vehicle.

"There's more room in this thing, and we can take turns sleeping in the back. I switched plates, so I figure we'll be good for a couple of days." Max must have caught a look of disapproval on his face, because she suddenly turned to face him fully, her dark chocolate eyes burning into his. "Logan, will you get off your damn high horse for once? I don't have time to deal with your fuckin' morality right now, so just quit arguin' and toss that suitcase in back."

Logan just stared at Max, taken aback. _Your fuckin' morality_ … he knew it was probably just Max's impatience talking, but the words echoed in his head, causing an ache in his chest. He set he jaw, determined that he wouldn't let her see how much of an affect her words had on him. He had sacrificed almost everything else for Max, but he couldn't sacrifice his pride--what was left of it. He moved forward to put his suitcase in the back, noting how Max automatically stepped back to create that ever-present distance between them.

As he shoved his suitcase in back, he saw a sleeping bag, a small pillow, and two small duffels that must have belonged to Max and Cindy. He found himself frowning again. "Is that all you guys brought?"

Max took a look at their bags, brows furrowed, trying to figure out what the problem was. "Yeah. So?"

"I told you guys you needed to bring some formal wear. This place is very exclusive, and we need to look like we're big money."

OC shoved away from the side of the van to stand by Max, her lips pursed and her arms folded. "Do we look like the kinda girls that have Versace hanging around in their closets?"

"Don't worry about it. I'll take care of it when we get down there," Max supplied, looking like she was about ready to toss _Logan _into the van if he didn't hurry it up.

Logan wavered, knowing Max planned to steal what she and Original Cindy would need. His sense of right and wrong had been pricked too many times already since he had discovered news of Alec. "Maybe we should just stop before we leave. I could buy…"

"Didn't we already discuss high horses?" Max snapped, interrupting Logan. "I _said_ I'd take care of it, Logan. Just leave well enough alone and get in the van, or I'll leave your ass here and figure out a way to get to Alec on my own."

Max's whole exchange with Logan had Original Cindy raising her eyebrows. She'd never known Max to be that short with the man. Everybody else, yes, but not Logan. OC knew that the virus had taken its toll on Max and Logan's relationship, but apparently it had degenerated further than she'd thought. After all, Max hadn't been very talkative the last couple of months. She'd been too busy hanging out at the Space Needle, beating herself up for things that she couldn't change.

Max and Logan stood staring at each other for a moment, locked in a battle of wills. But Max felt the tangible pull on her body, urging her south. Every moment she wasted increased the chance that something would happen to Alec before she got there. She had no thought for anything else but getting to Alec. When she spoke again, her voice was cold and sharp.

"I'm probably gonna have to do a lot of things you won't like when this all goes down. It's up to you to figure out if your conscience can deal with that." She took a step closer to Logan, closing to within less than a foot of him, and she saw his eyes go wide at the proximity. "Go. Stay. Your choice, Logan. But we are leaving here in thirty seconds, with or without you."

With those words, Max spun on her heel and walked away. She opened the driver's side door, climbed in, and slammed it shut, the sound echoing with finality through the garage.

Logan stared at his feet for a moment, thinking furiously in the thirty seconds Max had allotted him. He knew he should give up and end this sham of a relationship that they had. He knew that Max was probably lost to him, and that he should just do the mature thing and let go. But a thought ran through his mind, one that had him climbing into the back of the van, closing the door behind him.

_Max loved me once. She can love me again._

* * *

They were ten hours into the journey, traveling south on I-5. It was sometime after three in the morning, and the windshield wipers beat steadily against the light rain that had started about an hour ago. They'd had no trouble getting through the checkpoints with their false documents, and Max had switched license plates twice, just in case. Logan was taking his turn at the wheel, while Max sat in the passenger seat. Original Cindy was curled up in the sleeping bag on the floor in the back of the van, gone to the world. 

When OC had announced that it was her turn for some shuteye, they had pulled over to the side of the road to switch positions. Once Cindy's breathing slowed and leveled out, signaling her unconscious state, Max and Logan had fallen into an awkward silence, which had continued for the past hour and a half.

Max sat slouched in her seat, with her feet propped up on the dash, hat still on backwards. She was steadily chewing her thumbnail, trying to work out the thoughts in her head. She kept surreptitiously glancing over at Logan's profile, trying to figure out what _he _was thinking.

She'd been a complete bitch to him earlier. She'd been so antsy, so overcome by the need to just _go_, that she'd said some things she probably shouldn't have. He didn't deserve to be treated like that. He'd always been there for her, even after she'd called it quits on their relationship after she had almost killed him.

When she reached deep down to touch the emotions she had bottled up for the past eight months, she realized that she still cared about him. She wasn't sure if she could love him--not anymore, not after all that had happened, but she did feel for him. She thought about the way she treated him earlier--the way she had been treating him since Alec left--and she realized with painful clarity that she didn't deserve his friendship, much less his love. His presence here in the van, driving over eleven hundred miles to save a man he didn't even really like, was proof that she still had both. The problem was, even if they suddenly had a cure for the virus, she wasn't sure if she _wanted _both anymore.

Either way, he deserved a little respect.

"Logan," she began awkwardly, and van jerked slightly as the suddenly broken silence startled him. He glanced at her momentarily, wariness in his eyes, before turning his eyes back to the road.

_Shit_, Max thought._ I fucked up with Alec, now I've fucked up with Logan. Can't I get anything right? _

"Look," Max sighed, "about earlier. I just wanted to... um... well... I was kinda juiced to get going, and I really didn't mean to say those things I said."

Logan gave her a quick sidelong glance, and Max could see the disbelief in his eyes.

"Okay, maybe I meant to say them, but I shouldn't have said them that way." At Logan's continued silence, Max made a little frustrated noise. "Come on, Logan, I'm trying to apologize here. Can't you give me a break?"

"All you had to do was say it," Logan replied quietly, eyes still on the road.

"Huh?" Max asked, puzzled.

"_I'm sorry_," Logan said, and this time Max could detect a hint of humor in his tone, could see the corners of his lips quirk in the ghost of a smile. "The words really aren't that difficult, you know."

Max smiled back, glad to end the horrible silence between them. "For _you_, maybe." She tilted her head at him, trying to feel him out, to see if he really was all right, but she found that she was unable to judge him anymore. She was just beginning to realize that he'd become good at hiding over the past months, and she'd just never noticed it before. "Are we good?" she asked hopefully.

This time, Logan's smile reached his eyes. "Yeah, we're good."

"Good."

Max sighed and leaned back against her seat once more, content. She and Logan fell into to silence once more, but this time, it wasn't strained. Max stared at the road ahead as they moved along, each revolution of the tires bringing them closer to Alec.

_I'm coming for you, Alec. Just hold on. I'm coming._

* * *

A/N: Alec's sorta in this chapter, okay? For those of you suffering from Alec-withdrawal, hopefully this is just enough to get you by until he makes his reappearance. 


	5. So Cold

Gone

By Inzane

Disclaimer: I looked under my pillow this morning, but the tooth fairy did not leave me the rights to Dark Angel. Bitch.

Summary: How much abuse can a guy take before he snaps? Events in Hello, Goodbye take a different turn. AU from that point.

A/N: And now, what you've all been waiting for… drum roll please… the reappearance of Alec! The title of this chapter comes from the song by Breaking Benjamin.

Warning: Language, adult situations (mostly implied), violence, and Badass Alec (to make up for previous lack of Alec).

* * *

Chapter 5: So Cold

"Girlfriend, it is jus' too bad we gotta go and waste these dresses impressin' criminal lowlifes, 'cause, _damn_, we lookin' off da hook! I could seriously pick me up some _fine_ lickety-chick in this thing. "

Original Cindy turned in several different directions, checking herself out from various angles as she stood next to Max in front of the mirror.

When they had reached Los Angeles around eleven the previous night, they had checked into a hotel, at Logan's insistence. Max had protested at first, but he had managed to convince her that they needed to rest and get cleaned up before they tried to infiltrate the fight club. They couldn't do anything until the next night anyway, as fights had started about three hours earlier. And he had reminded her, somewhat reluctantly, that she needed to take care of some business first, which had led to her little midnight larceny to obtain the dresses she and OC were currently wearing.

Original Cindy's dress was a shimmering gold that complemented her skin tone, its folds draping from spaghetti straps to hug her curves before ending mid-thigh in the front and just below her knees in the back. She wore matching heels with gold straps that wrapped around her ankles. Her hair was a riot of curls, accented with gold highlights, and long, dangly earrings draped to her shoulders.

Max stood next to her friend, unmoving, observing her own reflection in the mirror. She hardly recognized herself. Original Cindy had done up her hair in one of those twisty, upswept styles that made her look elegant and sophisticated. Her dress was completely white and made of some soft, diaphanous material that clung to her upper body like a second skin before falling smoothly from her waist to her ankles. The bodice scooped dramatically, showing off her assets to full advantage, and there was a long slit up the right side of the skirt, showing glimpses of leg almost all the way up to her hip when she moved. Small diamonds twinkled at her ears and neck. As a concession to the virus, Max wore long white gloves that covered her arms to mid-bicep.

"_Wow_."

At the exclamation, both women turned their heads to find Logan in the open doorway to the bathroom. He was dressed in an exquisitely cut tuxedo, and his blue eyes stood out vividly behind his glasses. Those eyes were locked on Max. "You look … stunning. Both of you," he added, his eyes flicking to take in Original Cindy. It wouldn't do to scare Max off with his attention.

Max ducked her head a blushed a bit, feeling out of her element in the flowing dress. "Thanks," she murmured, unconsciously reaching up to touch her hair. It had been a long time since she'd tried to be girly.

Original Cindy looked from Logan to Max, feeling the awkwardness in the room. "I think I'll just go get the little bag that goes with this kickin' dress. Meet you in the hall."

OC figured maybe Max could use a moment try to figure out her feelings towards Logan, because once Alec was back in the picture, things were bound to get complicated again. She also figured that maybe Logan deserved this last moment with Max, because she'd seen how her girl had been these past eight months since Alec had been gone. She seriously doubted that Logan had any chance of rekindling what he once had with Max.

Max watched Cindy leave the room, then turned back to the mirror to look at the stranger in the reflection. She stared at the stranger, then slowly her lips curved into a smile. Underneath the makeup and the jewelry and the fancy dress, she was still Max. She could still kick ass with the best of them. She would get Alec out of this. Any other outcome was unacceptable.

She turned back to Logan, the smile still on her face. "Are you ready to do this?"

Logan could have laughed at the question. Was he ready to do this? Was he ready to go rescue the man that had pretty much single-handedly brought his and Max's relationship to its virtually non-existent state? _Hell, no_. But he would do it anyway, because it was the right thing to do.

"Ready as I'll ever be," he replied, which wasn't really a lie. He gallantly proffered his arm to her without thinking. Only when he saw her eyes widen and her body freeze did he realize what he had done. Her concern caused a warmth that spread out from his chest through his whole body.

It was hope.

"You're wearing gloves, Max," Logan said in a soft tone, smiling slightly. "You can't hurt me."

Max stared at the arm he offered, remembering hospitals and heart monitors and hopelessness. But when she opened her eyes, Logan was still standing there, looking amused and handsome and _alive_. She hadn't killed him that day. She could do this.

She had been about to step forward and take his arm when she brought her eyes up to look into his, and she froze again. She could see the hope Logan tried to disguise behind amusement, and she suddenly felt burdened by the weight of the feelings he was unable to hide. She didn't want to hurt him. She had hoped that in eight months he could have gotten over it, over _them_. They couldn't go back to the way things were, and with the virus, there was no moving forward. Why couldn't he see that?

Max took a slow step forward, eyeing him warily. She cautiously took his arm, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow, but keeping her body well apart from his. "Don't get used to this. It's only temporary."

Logan ducked his head in acquiescence, smile fading slightly. "Of course." He gestured with his free hand toward the door. "Shall we?"

Max took a deep, cleansing breath, then replied, "Let's go."

The two of them headed out the door, off to save Alec from himself.

* * *

Viktor paused at the closed door, hand hovering in preparation to knock. He hated coming down here, hated dealing with the freak. He didn't care how much money the guy brought in for the organization. Dude was fuckin' scary.

He finally gathered his courage, and knocked on the door twice. He waited for a short period, then knocked again. Still, no answer. _Shit_. 494 was supposed to be prepping for his fight later. He was already fifteen minutes late.

Viktor had one job to do, and he was determined to do it. He could hear the boss's words in his head, reminding him of his duty: _I don't care what the fuck you do with yourself, Viktor. You may be my sister's son, but you are the most worthless piece of shit I have ever seen. You wanna move up in the family, you gotta prove to me you got the balls. So you're gonna deal with our special new fighter. Whatever he wants--booze, drugs, girls, hell, __**boys**__--you see he gets it. There's only one thing I ask--you make sure he's ready to fight on fuckin' time._

Viktor glanced down at his watch again, sweat starting to pop out on his upper lip. Shit! The dude wasn't coming out. He was gonna have to go in, and hope the freak didn't decide to rip his head off. You could never tell with the guy, because he was so fuckin' cold. He wondered if 494 ever felt anything at all.

He punched in the code on the keypad next to the door. When the indicator light turned green, he braced himself, turned the knob, and stepped inside. As soon as he heard the sounds coming from the direction of the couch across the room, he wished he hadn't. The freak was apparently engaged in a little _extracurricular _activity.

He had no idea why the guy did it. He'd accidentally walked in on him several times when the guy had been fucking one woman or another, and the freak never seemed to enjoy it. It was it was like it was just another bodily function or something.

Viktor cleared his throat, shifting his feet uncomfortably as he stood on the other side the room.

"What?" he heard from the other side of the couch, the freak's deep voice completely calm and level, even though from the noise he could tell the guy was pounding away at some chick. She seemed to be enjoying it too, from the noises she was making.

"Umm ... should you be doin' that before a fight?" Viktor asked hesitantly.

"Doesn't make a difference." Again, the voice sounded calm, almost bored even.

Viktor glanced down at his watch, then lowered his arm and clasped his hands behind his back when he found that they were shaking. "It's… uh… it's soon time. You're gonna be late." He closed his eyes for a second in self-derision as his voice came out a bit higher pitched than usual.

"So?" came 494's flat reply. The woman 494 was using_--_there was no other word for it--was thankfully hidden from Viktor's view by the couch, uttering wordless cries of passion.

_Shit, shit, shit!_ "The boss, he ain't gonna like it if you're late." _Just come with me, you goddamn freak!_

"Then tell him to find another fighter."

Viktor paled visibly. _Oh, hell! What did I ever do to deserve this shit! _He was stuck between the goddamn rock and the motherfuckin' hard place. He could face 494, and most likely get his head rotated three-sixty, or he could face the boss and tell him that his prize fighter didn't feel like fighting right now. Which could possibly cause him to end the evening rolled up in fuckin' plastic. _Fuck!_

"Come on, man," Viktor said, the slight tremor in his voice betraying his nervousness, "you can't tell me fuckin' that bitch is more exciting than what you do in that ring?" _Please, please, God, just get this freak to come with me, and I swear, I will never cheat on my wife again. I swear it._

God must have been listening, because all of the sudden, 494 stood up, causing Viktor to avert his eyes from the man's nakedness. The guy just didn't have any humility.

"Get out," he heard the freak say, and Viktor brought up his eyes to see if he was the one being addressed. But 494 was looking down at the girl on the couch. _Thank you, God_.

The woman sat up, also naked, a confused look on her face. "Huh?"

"_Now_," 494 growled, turning his back on the woman. Viktor felt the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stand on end at the tone. He would have turned and ran if that tone had been directed at him, but the stupid bitch on the couch just sat there, blinking like an idiot.

494 turned his head slightly, and Viktor swallowed hard as that cold gaze fell on him. "You get rid of her, or I will." Viktor had no doubt that the freak was very willing and able to follow up on his threat. Only when Viktor gave a slight nod did 494 turn away and walk out of the room. He panicked for a second until he heard the shower start to run, 494 apparently getting cleaned up before the fight. Then he walked swiftly forward and grabbed the woman on the couch by the arm and yanked her roughly to her feet.

"Hey!" the woman yelled, taking a halfhearted swipe at him. He just tightened his hold on her and dragged her from the room, grabbing up her dress from the floor as he went.

"I hope fuckin' that animal was worth it, sweetheart," he said as he opened the door and shoved her out, shaking his head, "'cause you came this close..." He trailed off, tossing her dress at her. Bitch was too stupid to realize what could have happened to her.

The woman, a little tipsy on her feet, smiled drunkenly. "You have no idea," she replied with a giggle, struggling to untangle her dress.

He slammed the door in her face.

When Viktor turned, he almost jumped out of his skin. 494 was directly behind him, staring down at him from his several-inch height advantage, damp hair hanging in his eyes. The guy was dressed this time, thank God.

"I'm ready," 494 said. Viktor made the mistake of meeting those hazel eyes, and found himself frozen, unable to break eye contact. He'd seen eyes like that before. They just happened to be on a dead man.

"Let's go," 494 said, and pushed past Viktor to go out the door.

Almost a full minute passed before Viktor was able to follow.

* * *

"You sure you can trust this guy?" Max asked, assessing one of the guys handling security at the elevators that led to the lower levels.

About ten minutes ago, they had arrived at a building that, at first glance, appeared to be under a major reconstruction. The levels above the ground, however, were just a blind for the real action that lay below. The building had several sub levels, and Logan's contact had told them that was where they needed to go. The guy was working main security for the night's event, and his job was apparently to screen everyone before letting them through to the lower levels. Max continued to eye him warily; the man certainly didn't appear trustworthy.

Logan furrowed his brows. "I don't think you can really trust anybody in Lenny's line of work, but what choice do we have? I don't think kicking in the door in and dragging Alec out of there is really an option."

"Hmmm. Too bad," Original Cindy said, sounding crestfallen. "Been a long time since I got to throw down."

Logan turned to Cindy, a look of censure on his face. "The object here is _not _to throw down. This is the Russian mafia. They have guns. Lots of them. We need to keep as low a profile as possible."

Max and Original Cindy shared a look, and Max rolled her eyes. Logan was great with his computers, but when it came to people, he could be a real idiot sometimes.

OC frowned back at Logan. "Don't get all rotated, Logan. OC knows the score. I's jus' playin'."

"I don't think this is the time..." Logan began, but was cut off when Max stepped in between them.

"Jesus Christ, Logan, _not _the time and place for a lecture! We know what to do. We went over it a million times on the drive down. It's time to get down to business. I gotta get in there before the fights begin to scope out the security. Now, can we please do this?" Max finished off her minor tirade by crossing her arms over her chest and tapping her foot in impatience.

Logan fought to remove the frown from his face, with difficulty. "I just want everyone to understand the seriousness of what we are about to do here."

Max reached forward with her gloved hand and grabbed Logan's arm, positioning him so that he was on her left side. Cindy moved up next to him to take his other arm. "We understand, Logan," Max said in a tone that held just a little bit of irritation. "Honest." With that, Max surged forward. Original Cindy followed suit, and Logan, trapped between them, had no choice but to follow.

As they came up to Lenny, the man gave Logan a cursory glance (Lenny had never met Logan in person, so he did not recognize him), then looked both Max and OC up and down, running the tip of his tongue over his teeth. "I must say," he said, addressing Logan, but still eying the girls, "you sure know how to accessorize, man. It's almost not fair. You should share the wealth."

Since Max had to be careful about touching Logan, Original Cindy took the incentive and leaned into Logan, running a hand down his chest, her cheek next to his. "'Fraid I got _eyes only _for my boy, here," she said, her tone sultry.

Lenny's eyes widened slightly at the code words, and he shifted a bit uncomfortably, glancing down at his guest list. He hadn't really thought that the guy would actually follow through and show up at the fight. Why they wanted to see the freak so badly, he had no idea.

"Yeah. Right. See your name right here, sir. If you'll just step this way..." He held out a hand, then gestured them to pass through the metal detector that was used to screen all guests. Logan and Original Cindy passed through without a hitch, but when Max went through, the light turned red and there was a soft ping. Lenny frowned, then went to frisk Max.

"You wanna keep those hands, buddy, I suggest you stop right there," Max said in a dangerous tone. Lenny looked nervously at her, then leaned in and whispered to her.

"Gotta make it look real," he said, flicking his eyes to his partner. "You guys want in, I gotta follow procedure."

Max stared at the man, then gave a little nod. Lenny proceeded to frisk her, never actually touching her but making it look good to anyone who wasn't standing right there.

"You're clear, Miss. Must've been some piece of clothing set it off."

Max gave him a tight smile, cocking her head to the side. "Yeah, underwire's a real bitch."

She joined Logan and OC on the other side, and Lenny's partner, who was manning the elevator itself, punched in a code to open the door. As the trio stepped inside, the man said, "Enjoy your evening," just before the door closed with a soft whoosh.

As soon as the door closed, Max stepped away from Logan, unable to take the dangerous proximity any longer. As she did so, his head turned to follow her, a curious look on his face. "I thought you didn't do guns?" he asked, wondering just what it would mean if Max was willing to carry a gun in order to get Alec out of this.

"Yeah, don't tell me you gone all Rambo, boo," Cindy added, looking a bit concerned.

Max turned to watch the numbers on the elevator change. "I _don't _do guns," she replied brusquely, refusing to look at them.

"Then what... ?" Logan trailed off, pointing upwards to indicate what had just happened at street level.

Max was literally saved by the bell as the elevator pinged to announce they had arrived at their destination. "Don't worry about it," she said, then plastered a smile on her face as the doors opened. "Time to make nice with the bad guys," she muttered.

The three of them exited the elevator, moving out into a whirl of sound, lights, and motion.

* * *

"Where the hell is he?" Max hissed. She snagged a glass of champagne off the tray of a server that happened to be passing by, downed it in three quick gulps, and slapped the glass back on the tray before the server had a chance to move on.

Logan frowned slightly as he watched Max down another drink. It was her fifth, by his count. He'd done a lot of frowning since this whole crazy rescue mission began. "Should you be drinking those so fast?"

Max's face screwed up in a look that clearly said _get serious_. "Phfft. Not like they make a difference, with my metabolism." To prove her point, or maybe just to be contrary, she grabbed another from a different server passing by and downed that one as well.

Max's impatience didn't lend itself to sitting, so they were currently standing at the railing surrounding the seating area around the ring. Original Cindy was leaning casually against the rail, with her back to the ring. Logan stood ramrod straight, his hands gripping the rail, while Max was in constant motion, pacing or leaning or snagging drinks from serving trays. Max had already done her sweep of the security, and now she was just waiting to take action.

Whatever member of the Russian mafia was in charge of the fight club had apparently watched too many movies, and also must've had a flair for the dramatic and a lot of cash to burn. The fighting arena was a large sunken concrete ring, with tunnels from where the fighters made there entrance and a layer of sand coating the floor--reminiscent of some gladiatorial game. Clear, thick glass surrounded the ring, separating the well-dressed audience from the spectacle. There were several rows of lushly padded, stadium-style seating, descending from the rail where Max, Logan, and Original Cindy were standing, down to the glass edging the ring. Lights and pounding music were used to maximum affect, to increase the spectator's experience.

They had already watched eight fights, and there was still no sign of Alec. Max was becoming increasingly impatient. As a cheer went up from the crowd as the current fighter in the ring finished off his opponent, Max sneered in disdain at their excitement. "These people need to get out more. I've seen worse. Hell, I've _done_ worse."

"Keep your voice down, Max," Logan muttered between clenched teeth.

"Why?" Max asked, whipping her head around to look at him. "These people are too busy screamin' for blood to pay any attention to what I'm sayin'. Sick bastards." She turned back to watch as the handlers, or whatever you called them, dragged a bleeding and unconscious fighter from the ring.

Max had spent the past eight months looking for Alec. You would have thought that now that she had finally found him, a few hours one way or another would not have made a difference. But knowing that Alec was somewhere close, under the same roof, was driving her crazy. She needed to see him with her own eyes, to verify that she had really found him and the whole thing wasn't some wild goose chase. She just needed to see him to make sure he was okay.

"Where the hell is he, goddammit?" she practically growled.

Original Cindy slid along the rail toward Max, pausing to glare at Logan when he didn't move out of the way at first. Logan gave her a strained smile, then took a step back, and OC slid into his vacated spot next to Max.

"Boo," OC said in a low voice, keeping her tone calm, "you gotta chill, aiight? You getting all wound is not gonna help him. I'm sure they're savin' him for last, anyway, like the main event or somethin'."

"Are you waiting to see the freak?"

Three heads turned in unison at the question, to find a man in a black on black tuxedo standing casually behind them, hands in his pockets. He was handsome in a rich, upper-crust, pampered sort of way. He sidled closer to them, his eyes coming to rest on Max.

"I couldn't help but notice," he said in a rich, cultured voice, "that you seem a bit impatient. I imagine you are waiting to see the freak?"

Max opened her mouth to start to say something, but felt OC's hand suddenly close like a vice around her arm. Her friend knew her too well. She checked the rude comment she had been about to blurt out and gave the man a teasing smile.

"I've heard so much about him, I'm just dying to see him," Max gushed, playing ditzy to the hilt. "Is it really true that he's part animal?" she asked, bringing a hand up to rest lightly over her heart, as if the thought was frightening and exciting all at once.

The man in black laughed, casually pulling Max away from her friends as he did so. Max signaled Logan with a quick shake of her head that she would handle the guy. Maybe she would be able to gather more information from him.

"He is indeed," the man continued, "if the rumors are correct. But all you need to do is watch him fight, and there will be no doubt in your mind." He had leaned in to Max on those last five words to whisper them huskily in her ear.

Max had an overwhelming urge to rearrange the man's smug face, but managed to get a grip on herself. Save Alec now, pound on smug bastards later. A girl had to have priorities.

"Oh," she breathed, batting her eyelashes a bit, "will he be fighting soon? I just can't take the suspense any more!"

"Soon, my lovely lady," the man continued. "He's always the last to fight. No one can follow up an act like his. I've lost a lot of money betting against him, but even a genetic freak has to lose sometime. When he does, I'll make a fortune."

The man picked up Max's gloved hand in his own, and Max fought hard to relax her arm and not pull away in revulsion. "I'm Justin St. Cyr. It's a pleasure to meet you…?" He trailed off, waiting for Max to offer her name."

"Delilah," Max said after only a momentary pause, pulling the name out of her head. It sounded sultry enough for Mr. Smug Bastard St. Cyr.

"Delilah," Justin repeated, rolling the word over his tongue. "What a lovely name. I hope I can convince you, Delilah, to join me in my private box. It's a much more… _intimate_ experience than watching the fights from the general seating." His hand made its way up Max's arm in a caress, and she was very proud of herself for maintaining her cool and not returning his hand to him in broken little pieces.

"I just might do that, Justin," Max purred, while internally she was calling him every foul name she could think of.

"I'm in box 3A. I hope to see you there. A woman as lovely as you shouldn't be forced to press flesh with the general public."

Max bit the inside of her cheek at that. St. Cyr's idea of the _general public_ consisted of people that made more in a week than Max did in a whole year at Jam Pony. She smiled at him, hoping that his human hearing wouldn't be able to pick up the grinding of her teeth.

St. Cyr turned and moved off, presumably heading to his private box. When she was sure he was out of sight, Max allowed herself a little shudder, then made her way back to Logan and Original Cindy. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw OC was pressed up against Logan, kissing him full on the mouth. Her mouth dropped open and she was surprised her eyeballs didn't just fall right out the sockets. She took a few shuffling steps forward in shock, and then spied the _very_ tall man standing beside them. And if she wasn't mistaken, the guy was eyeing _Logan_, not Original Cindy.

Original Cindy broke off the kiss, then turned to the big man, her arms still wrapped around Logan. "Sorry, shugga," OC drawled, "'fraid my boy don't swing your way, and I'm really not into _that_ kinda three-way, you know?"

The tall man muttered, "Shame," before moving off to find a willing partner. As Max moved back over to them, she saw that Logan looked about as shocked as she did. As soon as she was sure the man was gone, Original Cindy's fake smile fell from her face, and she grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing server and downed it in two seconds flat.

"You _so_ owe me for that one, Logan," Original Cindy muttered, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Yeah, uh, thanks," Logan replied, reaching up to loosen his collar a bit as he cleared his throat. He turned to Max and nodded in the direction from which she came. "So, what was that all about?" he asked, his voice a bit too casual, betraying his interest.

Max turned away from him, back toward the ring, where there were several guys dragging the sand to smooth it for the next fight. She didn't have time to deal with Logan and his feelings right now, much less deal with her own mixed up feelings. She needed to concentrate on getting Alec out of here.

"Just getting some intel, Logan. Don't worry about it."

Suddenly, an announcement came over the PA system. _Fifteen minutes to place bets on the final fight. Fifteen minutes._

Max could feel her heart rate increase. The noise of the crowd was drowned out by the sound of her own pulse. Alec was up next. After months and months of searching, she was finally going to see him again. She would finally have a chance to make things right. She shared a look with Original Cindy, and her friend reached forward to give her hand a little squeeze.

"Come on, Boo," OC said, her voice soft and soothing, "let's go find a seat down front. Been a long time since I seen that pretty boy, and I wanna be where I can get a good look."

Max and Original Cindy made their way down the stairs to the beginning rows of seats, with Logan brining up the rear. Max held on to OC's hand tightly. The connection seemed to be the only thing that was keeping her together at the moment, because she was suddenly overcome by the memory of her last conversation with Alec.

_You really think I could do it? You think I could murder someone in cold blood? _

_Yes, Alec, I think you could._

_This time, do us all a favor and stay gone._

Max sat down in a seat next to the glass surrounding the ring. As she stared into the sunken arena, she suddenly had to close her eyes, assaulted by a vision of Alec's face as she had seen him last, trying to mask how much what she'd said had hurt him.

_God, how am I ever gonna make things right between us?_

* * *

Viktor watched as 494 prepared himself for the fight. If that was what you could call it. The guy didn't really do much of anything. He didn't stretch, lift weights, tape up his fists--anything. He just stood there silently, waiting, eyes unfocused behind the long strands of hair that hung down to hide them.

Viktor looked out into the ring, seeing it was finally cleared for the final fight. "You're up," he said quietly.

You would have thought that 494 didn't hear, because he didn't move a muscle. Viktor waited. He knew from past painful experience that he should not repeat himself. About fifteen seconds later, 494's eyes suddenly came into focus.

"Time to fight," he said, his teeth bared and his voice a deep growl. Viktor took an involuntary step back, swallowing hard.

494 rolled his shoulders once, tilted his head to the side until his neck popped, then moved through the tunnel and out into the light.

* * *

When the lights dimmed, cloaking the sunken arena in darkness, Max felt as if her heart would pound out of her chest. She felt hot and cold, all at once. She moved to the edge of her seat, closer to the glass that separated her from the ring.

With her transgenic eyesight, she could see men entering the arena from the tunnels along its side. Six of them took positions along the outer rim--large, dangerous looking men. Some of them appeared to be enhanced, like the Steelheads back in Seattle. All of them were carrying weapons--knives, chains… one even had what looked like a Samurai sword. Pounding music began to resound from hidden speakers as the lights slowly came up, revealing the combatants to the audience. A murmur rose from the crowd… they were waiting for someone else, just like she was.

A door to a tunnel on the far side of the ring opened, and the music suddenly stopped. Max felt her heart skip a beat and her breath caught in her throat. The crowd erupted into riotous cheers and applause.

Alec walked into the ring.

Stalked would probably have been a more accurate description. He moved like she had never seen him move before--sinuous movements that suggested his true origins. He came to a stop in the center of the ring, surrounded by enemies on all sides.

Max didn't even know that she stood, couldn't even feel her feet carry her to the glass bordering the edge of the ring. She suddenly just found herself there. She lifted a hand to the glass, pressing against it lightly, and whispered, "_Alec_."

Max had seen the picture of him that Logan had discovered, but she didn't realize how unprepared she was to see him so different in the flesh. If she hadn't known better, she would have doubted the man in the ring was Alec. His chest was bare, and she could see the damage from previous fights--some just faded white scars, others angry red welts barely healed. His flesh was much paler than the golden tan she was used to. He wore nothing but loose fitting, beat up jeans slung low on his hips. His bare feet sank into the sand. He was unarmed, but Max knew better than anyone that his body was far more dangerous a weapon than any other in that ring.

His head hung down, his hair hanging in strands down over his eyes. God, how she wished she could see his eyes. She could see stubble lining his jaw, which somehow was the thing that threw her off the most. She had never see Alec with so much as a hint of stubble the entire time she had known him.

He began to turn slowly in the ring, sizing up his opponents. When he turned, she saw how closely he had cut his hair in the back, his barcode standing out on his flesh like a neon sign, as if he were just begging to be discovered.

Maybe he was.

Alec turned full circle and then came to a halt. The lights outside the arena dimmed to almost black; only golden running lights along the stairs and floor remained. The ring was blazing with light. Max saw Alec bend his knees slightly and shift his weight to the balls of his feet.

The music blared to life once more. Max could feel its base rhythm pounding in her chest. In unison, all six opponents charged Alec at once.

His legs bent as he lowered into a crouch, then straightened in an explosive push as he launched himself into the air, flipping backwards over the opponents that had been closing in to land behind them. Then he went on the offensive.

His moves seemed somehow in time with the music, as if he were engaged in some deadly dance. He grabbed one opponent by the arm and spun, flinging the man bodily into two others that were closing in, causing all three to crash to the ground, skidding in the soft sand at the bottom of the ring.

The man with the Samurai sword came in fast, swinging the blade in a sweeping arc. Alec bent backwards at the waist, the blade skimming above his body, missing by only a couple of inches. When the blade passed by, Alec swung his upper body forward and over, his legs coming around in a forward flip and catching the man around the neck. Alec then twisted and rolled to the side, sending the swordsman spinning off to the right.

No sooner had he regained his feet then two other men attacked in unison, one with an enhanced arm, while the other swung a thick chain. Alec blocked a punch from the metal-armed man, then caught the chain from the other man as it came swinging his way. He tugged hard on the chain, sending Chain Man flying behind him, then barely got his arm up in time as Metal Arm pulled a knife from behind his back and slashed downward. Blood welled up on Alec's right arm as the knife cut into his flesh.

At the sight of Alec's blood, Max brought her other hand up to the glass, hands fisting, wanting desperately to break through, to help him somehow. But he didn't need her help. She'd never seen him fight like this. He was silent. His face was a mask of stone. It was so... _un-Alec_, her mind was having trouble reconciling the Alec she knew and the Alec down in the ring.

Sensing an attack from behind, Alec ducked a swing from a lead pipe, then grabbed Metal Arm's wrist, the un-enhanced one that was holding the knife, and twisted hard. The bones snapped with an audible crunch, and the man screamed in pain, falling backwards to the ground. Then Alec blurred to the other side of the ring, crashing into the swordsman, who had just regained his feet, and sending him flying into the side of the ring. The man hit with an audible thud, and fell to a heap on the ground, unconscious.

Alec turned again, to be beset once more by two opponents at once. He traded punches with the pair, landing punishing blows while taking some himself. He suddenly had a spilt lip and a cut across the bridge of his nose. He took several more hits, several that he could have easily blocked, before dropping to the ground and performing a spinning kick, knocking both men's legs out from under them.

"What the hell is he doing?" Max whispered. "He's toying with them." Max felt Logan and Original Cindy move next to her. Their stunned silence was palpable. Behind them, the crowd screamed for blood.

Alec leapt in between the men he had just knocked down, grabbed them by the hair, and cracked their skulls together. When he let go of them, both men slumped to the ground, either unconscious or dead. Max blinked, drawing her head back in shock at the brutality of the move. This couldn't be Alec. It just _couldn't_.

There was a primal scream from across the ring as Pipe Man came running at Alec full force, pipe held high. When he closed the distance, he swung the pipe around at Alec's head. Alec dropped to a crouch, catching the lead pipe in his hand as it swung by above him, and wrenched it from Pipe Man's grasp. He stood suddenly and swung the pipe downward, taking out the man's knee with a resounding crack before swinging the pipe in a blur back upwards, catching the man under the chin and sending him flying backward.

Only Chain Man remained standing. He stood warily on the other side of the ring, eyeing his opponent. Alec stared back, then raised his one hand and beckoned to the man with a wave of his fingers. Chain Man swung his chain lightly in his hand, then reached down slowly to pick up a knife from the arena floor, never taking his eyes from Alec. With a feral grin, the man launched himself at Alec, swinging the chain, then following up with the knife.

Alec let the chain hit him, and it slammed hard into his side. He caught Chain Man's knife hand as it came down, and with a swift twist disarmed him. He spun the man around, turning him so that his back was against Alec's chest, then wrapped his arm around the man's neck in a choke hold. Chain Man immediately dropped the chain as both hands came up to grab at the arm around his neck.

Everything in the arena seemed to freeze. Then Alec slowly raised his head, and his eyes, staring out from behind sweaty locks of hair, unerringly found Max's and locked.

Max gasped, hand unconsciously coming up to cover her mouth. Those _eyes_... they were empty. She didn't see anything of Alec in those empty eyes. He was gone.

The world around her faded out. She didn't hear the screaming of the crowd, or the pounding of the music. Her entire focus narrowed in on those cold, empty eyes. She knew that he saw her watching him, just as she knew what he was about to do next when she saw the muscles in his arm tense.

"_No_," she whispered, reaching forward to place her hand flat against the glass in a gesture that begged him to stop, head shaking slightly in denial.

Alec's eyes never broke contact with hers as his arm jerked hard, hand catching his captive's chin and twisting it hard to the side, snapping his neck. The crowd roared, but Max couldn't hear it. She could only hear the stuttering beat of her own heart. Alec broke eye contact with Max, his head falling forward as he let his arms fall to his sides, and the man he had just killed slid bonelessly to the ground. He stood that way for a moment, then slowly raised his head, once again meeting Max's eyes.

Max's heart stopped for one... two... three beats, then stammered and started again, pounding frantically.

"_Dear God, what have I done?_" she breathed in horror, planting her hands on the ledge around the ring as her knees suddenly felt weak.

Alec cocked his head slightly, and it seemed almost as if he was issuing her a challenge. His lips quirked slightly--the only sign of emotion she had seen in him since finding him again--then he turned and stalked out of the ring, leaving damaged and dead men in his wake.

* * *

A/N: Disturbed? Good. I did it on purpose.

I realize that this chapter may not assuage the Alec-withdrawal out there. I might have been a little off base in describing Alec as _Badass_--maybe the more accurate term would just be _**BAD**_. With Alec so far gone, will Max be able to bring him back? (Only Inzane knows for sure, and she's not tellin'. Heh. Heh. Heh.)

Help me out and hit that review button. Your feedback helps me be a better writer.


	6. This Animal I Have Become

Gone

By Inzane

Disclaimer: I feel like a broken record. I do not own Dark Angel, okay?

Summary: How much abuse can a guy take before he snaps? Events in Hello, Goodbye take a different turn. AU from that point.

A/N: I'd like to thank everyone who has reviewed this story so far. I love receiving your comments and suggestions, which help me to guide my story and keep it on the right track. One reviewer was kind of shocked that I was a mom, so I'd like to give a shout out to all my fellow moms out there--especially working moms like me--who sacrifice sleep order to follow their passion and write. Sometimes, the dark circles under the eyes are worth it.

Chapter title and quote is from "Animal I Have Become" by Three Days Grace. (Don't own it either.)

Warning: Language, mild adult situations of a semi-disturbing nature, and Scary Alec.

* * *

Chapter 6: This Animal I Have Become 

_Previously:_

Everything in the arena seemed to freeze. Then Alec slowly raised his head, and his eyes, staring out from behind sweaty locks of hair, unerringly found Max's and locked.

Max gasped, hand unconsciously coming up to cover her mouth. Those _eyes_... they were empty. She didn't see anything of Alec in those empty eyes. He was gone.

The world around her faded out. She didn't hear the screaming of the crowd, or the pounding of the music. Her entire focus narrowed in on those cold, empty eyes. She knew that he saw her watching him, just as she knew what he was about to do next when she saw the muscles in his arm tense.

"_No_," she whispered, reaching forward to place her hand flat against the glass in a gesture that begged him to stop, head shaking slightly in denial.

Alec's eyes never broke contact with hers as his arm jerked hard, hand catching his captive's chin and twisting it hard to the side, snapping his neck. The crowd roared, but Max couldn't hear it. She could only hear the stuttering beat of her own heart. Alec broke eye contact with Max, his head falling forward as he let his arms fall to his sides, and the man he had just killed slid bonelessly to the ground. He stood that way for a moment, then slowly raised his head, once again meeting Max's eyes.

Max's heart stopped for one... two... three beats, then stammered and started again, pounding frantically.

"_Dear God, what have I done?_" she breathed in horror, planting her hands on the ledge around the ring as her knees suddenly felt weak.

Alec cocked his head slightly, and it seemed almost as if he was issuing her a challenge. His lips quirked slightly--the only sign of emotion she had seen in him since finding him again--then he turned and stalked out of the ring, leaving damaged and dead men in his wake.

* * *

Max stood there, behind the glass surrounding the arena, unable to take her eyes from the crumpled form of the man Alec had killed. Alec's expression hadn't changed at all when he'd done it. He'd just snapped the man's neck like a twig. Max leaned hard against the ledge and closed her eyes tight. She knew exactly what it felt like to snap a neck. Her reasons had been different, but the end result was the same. She was caught up in the memory of it when she was forced back into the present by a hand on her shoulder, shaking her. 

"Max. Max! Come on, girl, snap out of it!" Original Cindy's voice was unsteady, and her eyes were wide. She needed Max to snap out of it and be the strong one here, because what OC had witnessed down in that ring had scared the hell out of her. She raised her hand, planning to slap Max lightly across the face. Her hand was inches from making contact when Max's eyes opened and her hand shot up to catch OC's before it could connect.

Max stared at her friend's face. Logan was standing somewhere behind her, but she couldn't bring herself to look at him. She didn't want to see the horror and disgust that she knew he wouldn't be able to hide, so she focused on Original Cindy. She could see how worried and freaked out she was. Max was feeling a bit freaked out herself, but she knew she had to get that under control. She wasn't going to be any good to Alec if she let fear rule her emotions. The only thing she knew for certain was that she needed to fix this, to fix _him_. Because it was all her fault.

She wanted Alec back. Not this barely recognizable shell that he had become. _Alec_.

She needed to think. She just needed a couple of minutes to pull herself together and figure out what the hell she was gonna do. But it was still so goddamn noisy, with the music and the cheering and the laughter, she couldn't get her mind to work right. Then her head jerked lightly and her eyes flew wide as the solution presented itself.

Max spun and surged up the staircase without a word, leaving her friends shocked by her sudden departure. OC and Logan shared a look, and then they tore off after Max.

Max had a goal in mind, and she headed straight for it. She moved around the ring, and then up the steps to the second level and the private boxes. She moved to box 3A and gave the door three hard wraps.

Justin St. Cyr never saw it coming. He opened the door to his box, his smug face breaking into a smile when he saw the lovely _Delilah _at his door. He smiled even wider when _Delilah _pushed him back into his private box, an intent look on her face. He figured the match must have riled up her blood, and she was here to play. So he didn't see it coming when her fist flew up and punched him dead in the face, knocking him out cold.

Logan and Original Cindy caught up to Max just as she was dragging Mr. Smug Bastard over to the side of his box, where he would be out of the way.

"Max, what the hell...?" Logan asked, brows furrowed, hands palm up in question.

Max dropped St. Cyr unceremoniously next to the wall, then straightened, hands on her hips. "I need to think. I need to work this out, and we can't talk safely out there. Close the door."

Original Cindy spun and closed the door, and then leaned hard against it, needing its support. "You know, Max, I'd do anything for you, but I gotta tell ya that all this excitement is a little more than Original Cindy can handle."

Max gave a short, bitter laugh. "Told you not to come."

Logan had been holding his tongue, but now that they were in a private area where they could talk freely, he couldn't hold it in anymore.

"_None_ of us should've come here, Max! We need to leave. Now."

Max shook her head. "No," she said succinctly.

"He's killing people, Max!" Logan hissed. He couldn't believe she still wanted to rescue him, after what they had all seen him do.

OC took several shaky steps away from the door, coming to stand next to Max. "Hate to agree, but looks like your boy's gone dark side, boo."

Logan turned his gaze on Original Cindy, clenching his jaw at Cindy's reference of Alec as Max's boy. He hated it when she did that. When he turned back to look at Max, she was shaking her head, her face grim with determination.

"No, I have to talk to him, bring him back. I can't just leave him like this."

_Like I left Ben._

Max felt her stomach flip at the thought, and she had to swallow hard at the gorge rising in her throat. There were just too many similarities between Ben and Alec right now. And she wasn't the only one to see it.

"Max," Logan began, a pleading look in his eyes, "the way he's acting... I hate to bring up painful topics, but... he's Ben's twin. There could be a genetic defect…"

Max interrupted him, slicing a hand through the air to cut off his train of thought. "No. I've spent too much time looking at him and seeing Ben. But he's not. He's _not _Ben. He's just …" She trailed off, and her eyes unfocused, picturing him as she had seen him in the ring. Her shoulders rose, then collapsed as she said her next word, " …_lost_."

Logan stared at her, seeing the sadness in her eyes, and he knew he was going to lose this battle. He felt an overwhelming urge to drag her away from the horror they had just seen, to protect her, to keep her safe. But he knew Max wouldn't allow it. For eight months, her obsession had been finding Alec. She wouldn't give up so easily, no matter what Alec had done. It was times like these that he was painfully reminded that his world view and hers were so very, very different.

Max raised her eyes until they fell on Logan, and she could see he wasn't happy. She once again felt a pressing need in her muscles, urging her to move, to do something, to take action. She didn't have time for this. She needed to focus, and Logan was not helping matters. She felt her frustration rise as she looked into those concerned, unhappy eyes.

"I have to do this, Logan. I'm not just gonna leave him here for White or the Feds or whoever to come snatch him up." Her tone left no room for argument. She was just stating facts.

Logan, taken over by a jumble of emotions after witnessing what had happened in that ring, surged forward without a thought to the danger of what he was doing and grabbed Max's gloved arm, wanting to shake some sense into her. Max's face turned red, and she jerked her arm back roughly. The last time he had grabbed her arm like that, it had ended badly, launching the events that brought them to where they were now.

"What, you got a death wish now?!" Her voice was tinged with anger, her brows furrowed.

Logan took a step back, raising his hands in a gesture something like surrender. "No. No, it's just..." _God, there was no other way to phrase this without pissing her off._ "I can't let you do this, Max."

Max drew back her head, the expression on her face telling him that she better not have heard him right. "Let me? You won't _let me?!_ Where the hell do you get off..."

Original Cindy rolled her eyes upwards, looking for a little divine intervention, before stepping in between the two of them and holding up her hands in a gesture that told them to stop.

"Aiight, let's all just calm down." When Max opened her mouth to speak again, OC fixed her with a withering glare. "You just shut it, girl, 'cause you are not helping the situation here." Max folded her arms across her chest and frowned, looking like a petulant child. OC sighed, figuring it was the best she was gonna get from her. She turned her attention to Logan, who was frowning at Max. _God, these two!_

"Logan, you know my girl's gotta do what she gotta do. So maybe you should quit arguin' and start helpin'." Max's frown turned to a smug smile at this, until her friend turned her focus to her.

"And Max," OC continued, "you know Logan's only worried bout you, right? Could be he's got some legit concerns, so maybe you should stop blowing off everythin' the man says. Things a little tense up in here, and we all need ta just step back and chill." Cindy paused, watching Max and Logan to make sure they behaved themselves. When no new outburst occurred, she turned to Logan.

"You mind waiting outside for a minute, Logan. I'd like to talk to Max." Logan looked hesitant at first, shifting his feet with indecision, but something he saw in Cindy's eyes must have changed his mind.

"I'll be right outside," he said quietly. He gave Max one last pointed look, his mouth a grim line, then silently slid out the door.

Original Cindy immediately turned to Max and grabbed her arm, dragging her over to the plush chairs of the private box to sit down.

"Are you sure we should be doin' this?" OC said, her voice a little higher than usual. Now that they were alone, a little of her panic started to seep through.

Max drew her head back, and a look of disbelief and betrayal swept across her face. "How can you say that? I thought you were with me on this. I thought he was your _friend_?"

Cindy closed her eyes and reached forward to clasp Max's hand, hating that look of betrayal on her friend's face. But she would rather see that look on Max's face then have her run off half cocked to save Alec without really thinking things through.

"Alec _is_ my friend, boo," she said softly. "But that guy down there… I mean, he _killed_ somebody Max. Jus' 'cause he could. That guy, he's not Alec."

Max pulled her hand from Original Cindy's and learned forward, bringing her face to face with her friend.

"No, he's not, and it's _my_ fault he's like this," she said harshly, punctuating the word _my _by poking herself hard in the chest. "Don't you get it? I _drove _him to this, Cindy. Pushed him right over the fucking edge. I'm responsible for that man's death just as much as he is," she said, pointing out the window of the box to the dead man that was now being removed from the ring. Max paused and took a deep breath before continuing. "This is my responsibility. I can't just leave him."

Original Cindy chewed on her lower lip, concerned. "He looked pretty far gone, Max. You sure you can do it? That you can reach him?"

Max shrugged. "I have to, Cin."

OC pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. "Not quite the answer I was lookin' for."

Max's lips quirked in a half smirk, and she reached up to tuck a stray tendril of hair that had escaped behind her ear. "All I got right now."

"Boo, you best be careful. I don' think this Alec has a problem wit' hittin' girls."

Max stood, prepared to take action. "I can handle him. Always have before."

OC stood as well, and shook her head. "You know, Max, watchin' him fight down there, I think maybe he _let_ you handle him before."

Max had thought about that too, and it worried her a bit. "I know," she sighed. Across the room, Justin St. Cyr groaned and started to stir. Max turned her head to look at the man, frowning. "Hang on a second," she told Cindy distractedly.

Max moved over to the man against the wall and crouched down next to him. She pulled him up by the lapels of his tuxedo jacket, and his head lolled wildly, eyes fluttering. Max gave him a light slap on the cheek.

"Hey. Hey. You awake?"

St. Cyr tried to stop his head from rolling wildly, tried to focus. He managed to blink a few times and clear his vision a bit. He gave a brief nod to indicate he had heard Max.

Max nodded her head lightly and sighed. "Thought so." Then she reared back her arm and punched him dead in the face for a second time. She let go of him, dropping him on the floor, then stood. When she turned, Original Cindy was just staring at her, look clearly asking _what the fuck?_

Max's brows furrowed. "What? Couldn't have him wake up and report us, could I?"

At that moment, there was a light nock on the door, then Logan came back in. He stopped several feet from Max. Neither of them could find the words. They just stared each other down, a silent battle of wills. Logan should've realized, however, that in battle, the trained soldier always has the advantage over a civilian. He was the one to break eye contact first.

Logan stared at the floor, knowing from the look in Max's eyes that there was nothing he could possibly say that would make a difference. Max was bound and determined to save Alec, no matter the risk. The problem was, Logan didn't really think that Alec _should_ be saved. Not anymore. Not after what he saw in that ring. That Max could just accept what Alec had done disturbed him greatly.

Satisfied that they were all on the same page now, Max was finally ready to take action. "I'm gonna go find Alec. You two go back to the van and pull around back. Wait for us. We'll meet you back there."

Logan lifted his head to look at her, again overcome with concern. He was so afraid that Alec was going to hurt her. And here was Max, with no plan except to barge in there and confront him. "You think he'll come with you willingly?" he asked hesitantly. Even though he knew Max didn't want to hear it, he was pretty sure Alec didn't want to be saved.

Max was not swayed from her purpose. Her eyes glinted with steel determination. "I'm not gonna give him a choice in the matter."

Max picked up the skirts of her dress so she could move more freely, then pushed past them to head out the door. Just as she crossed the threshold, Logan called out to her.

"Max... _please_." Logan was not exactly sure what he was pleading for. For her not to do this? For her not to sacrifice everything they had once had in order to save a man that didn't deserve to be saved? For her to come back safely? Maybe all of them at once. His hands were fists at his sides, and his words were tightly controlled. "Be careful."

Max stopped, placing a hand on the edge of the doorframe, turning her head to the side to look back at them. Logan's breath caught in his throat. She was a vision in white, her neck and shoulders looking graceful and delicate underneath her upswept hair--too delicate. He knew that looks were deceiving, that Max was a genetically engineered super soldier, the same as Alec. But seeing Alec as he looked in that ring, and seeing Max as she was now, he couldn't help but think that Alec could break Max into little pieces if he wanted to. The question was, _did _he want to? Max apparently didn't think so, or thought she could handle it if he tried, but Logan wasn't so sure.

"Careful's my middle name," Max said with a hint of a smile on her lips as she uttered the bold-faced lie. "Wait for us." Then she disappeared around the side of the door.

Logan's felt a cold chill run down his spine at the possibility that he might never see her again.

* * *

Max went down to the lower level that surrounded the arena. None of the glitz and glamor from above was needed down below. That area was all concrete and exposed wires and harsh lighting. Max felt more comfortable down there than she had up among the _fashionable people_. If she could have changed out of the dress she was wearing without raising suspicion, she would have done it.

She figured she would have to knock out several guards, handlers, whoever they had milling around down at this level. But strangely, everyone seemed to be giving her knowing looks and passing her through. They even directed her to where she needed to go. She was kind of puzzled until her enhanced hearing picked up a muttered conversation of two of the guys she'd passed. She heard one man complain, _Why is it all the hottest women gotta go and spread their legs for that freak? _Max frowned. So that was it. Well, she could play that up if she had to. It would save her from messing up her dress, anyway.

As she moved along the lower level corridor, she kept her eyes peeled for escape routes. Better to be prepared, because she figured they would need to make a quick exit. She noted a small side corridor with a stairwell at the end, with only one guy hanging out at the stairwell. _Excellent_. That would most likely be their best route.

As Max turned a corner, she found a her way immediately blocked by a big man with an obvious bulge at his shoulder where his weapon pressed against his suit jacket. The man gave her a lascivious smile. Then, his gaze flickered, and Max actually caught a hint of concern there. Huh. Maybe the bad guys weren't always so bad.

"You sure you wanna do this, sweetheart? I hear he's none too gentle. He really is an animal. Might damage a pretty little thing like you."

Max was unfamiliar with the funny feeling she suddenly had in the pit of her stomach at the thought of Alec fucking random women on a regular basis. Funny, Alec had always been a playa, but it had never bothered her that much before. But that was before she realized how much she needed him in her life. Needed him for what, she had never let herself contemplate, because it had been too painful after he had disappeared. She didn't have the time to think about it now. She had to focus.

"Don't worry about me," Max said in a smooth, sultry tone. "I'm a lot tougher than I look. And I like a guy with... staying power."

The guy shook his head, and gave her a weak smile. "No one's gonna come in there if you start screamin'."

Max gave the man a crooked smile, cocking out a hip saucily. "Good, 'cause I've always been a screamer."

The man gave a little laugh, then reached over to open the door. "All right. If you're sure..." He held out his hand in a gesture for her to pass through.

"Don't worry 'bout me. I'll be fine." As Max walked through the door, she desperately hoped that she was telling the truth.

* * *

He felt it when she stepped into the room. It was like the pressure in the room increased tenfold, and suddenly he couldn't breathe.

He knew she would come. Just as he knew she had been up there, watching him. But he didn't want her here. Not at all. She made him think of things he didn't want to remember, feel things he didn't want to feel. He forced himself to draw air into his lungs, and ignored everything else.

He didn't turn to look at her, just continued to stand in front of the sink, washing the blood from his battered knuckles. Some of the blood was his own. He had already wrapped a bandage around the large slash on his arm, though he hadn't bothered with shoes or a shirt yet. With his peripheral vision, he could see Viktor standing on the other side of the room, eyeing her. He didn't like the way Viktor was eyeing her.

"Viktor," he growled, hands tightening into fists under the cold water. "Get out."

Viktor pursed his lips and nodded, figuring 494 was definitely going to have a go at this broad. She was drop-dead gorgeous. Figured. How the guy could fuck before the fight, take on six guys, then be ready to fuck after, he had no idea. He guessed that might be the one advantage to being a freak. He left the room, giving the woman one last look before he closed the door behind him.

Max stood on the other side of the room, just inside the door, frozen. She didn't know where to begin. Her blood was rushing through her veins once more, pounding in her ears. She'd wanted to see him so badly for the past eight months... but not like this. Not this stranger that was walking around with Alec's face. If she hadn't been able to read the barcode on the back of his neck, she almost would've thought that Manticore had created triplets, and that this was not Alec, nor Ben, but someone else entirely.

He turned. He thought he was ready. But when he took in the sight of her, his chest tightened painfully, and he felt like the pressure that had been building in the room had moved inside of him. Like everything that he had pushed aside and buried--everything that made him who he once was--was clawing and scrabbling, threatening to rise to the surface. He couldn't handle that. He couldn't go back to who he was before. He shoved it back down, locking it away as he had done so many times back at Manticore.

And that voice, that fuckin' voice that just wouldn't shut up, started in on him again. _Emotions are a liability. Emotions are the enemy._ He had a sudden flashback of a red light piercing into his eye, of men in white coats leaning over him, of words flashing before his eyes. The part of him that once was rose up again, whispered to him he knew exactly what that voice was, that he shouldn't listen to it. It whispered of six months brainwashing and reindoctrination and lies. But that voice was only a whisper. The other voice was louder, and it wouldn't be ignored. Sometimes, the only way he could get that fuckin' voice to shut up was to just do what it said. Because sometimes, it was right. Emotions _were _the enemy. He emptied himself out again, so nothing she could say would touch him, and became the shell Manticore taught him to be.

When he met her eyes, his were empty.

He walked over to her, his movements slow, sinuous, erotic... and yet somehow intensely threatening at the same time. He didn't stop, but kept coming, and it was all Max could do not to take a step back. He stopped no less than six inches from her, and his eyes--those empty eyes--traveled up and down her body. Normally, a look like that from Alec would have been overtly sexual, but this version of Alec seemed to be merely taking inventory. His face was completely impassive.

His eyes traveled back up her body to her face, then flicked to her upswept hair. She saw them narrow slightly.

"You know, that hair, it looks so out of place on you." His voice was deeper than she remembered, but maybe that was because his words held none of the animation and energy of the Alec she had known.

She stopped breathing when he slowly brought his hand up and reached behind her head. He grabbed the clip that was holding her hair up and released it, dropping it to the floor, before burying his hand in her hair to loosen it from its twist. It fell down around her shoulders in waves. Max felt her skin burn when his hand lightly brushed her shoulder as he pulled it back, and she inhaled deeply and began breathing again.

"There, that's better," Alec said in a deep rumble that made her tingle. He stared down into her eyes.

Max was struck dumb. She opened her mouth, but then closed it again as she couldn't think of any words that would fix things between them. On the long drive from Seattle, she had planned out what she would say to Alec when she saw him at last, but those words were for the Alec she knew, not the one that stood in front of her. She didn't know what to say to this Alec, and she just didn't know how to deal with him when he was like this.

Alec cocked his head at her, much like he had in the ring after he had snapped that man's neck. His lips suddenly twisted in a sad mockery of the smirk she had so desperately missed for the past eight months.

"What's the matter?" he growled, and suddenly there was something more behind the words than emptiness, but what _was _there made the hair on the back of Max's neck stand on end. "Cat got your tongue?"

Max had no warning. Alec had been standing in front of her, and then suddenly he had her against the wall. She was so thrown off by him, by how different he was, that she hadn't seen him move, only realized what had happened when pain shot up her back as he slammed her into the wall.

Her hands instinctually came up to block him, and she planted them against his bare chest, shoving back against him. His chest was still slick with sweat from the fight, and her hands could not find purchase. Her brain was short-circuiting, and she could do nothing as he pinned her to the wall.

Alec may not have been happy to see her, but his body sure was. She felt the hard evidence of his arousal as he ground his hips against hers, using them to further pin her to the wall. When Alec spoke again, his voice was full of cold menace.

"You know, women only come back here for one thing." Part of Max registered that he wasn't using her name, but the thought was replaced by panic when she felt Alec's hand reach down to the slit of her dress and run his hand up her bare leg. She struggled harder, and then cried out as he pulled at her slightly, then slammed her back into the wall.

Her eyes flew wide, and her heart felt as if it would pound right out of her chest. He pushed his upper body forward, and she found herself unable to push him away. Her arms collapsed until they were pinned between their two bodies. She didn't remember him being this strong. In one swift move, he leaned back and his left hand darted between them and grabbed both her wrists, pulling them up and pinning them to the wall above her head. Then he leaned forward again, bringing his face within inches of hers.

"Are you here for that... _one… thing?_" Alec drawled, hand tightening around her wrists.

Max's panic went into overdrive.

She looked him in the eyes, her own pleading, but he was unmoved. His eyes looked dead and lifeless. He ground his hips against hers again, and she cursed herself when she a slight whimper escaped her throat.

"No," Max replied firmly, but there was a tremor in her voice as she struggled in vain to free her hands, unable to overcome his strength.

Part of him balked at that tremor in her voice, screamed at him to stop, but he ignored it. He leaned in closer to her, and he felt her desperate attempts to keep him at bay. He could hear her heart pounding, hear her breath as it came in rapid gasps. He overpowered her, pushing his chest against hers. He moved in and leaned over until his right cheek touched hers, and his lips brushed her ear.

"Are you afraid of me?" he whispered. His breath was hot on her neck.

_Lie! Lie! Lie! Lie!_ her mind screamed at her. But with one-hundred and eighty pounds of pure muscle and aroused, genetically engineered male pressed against her, what came out was the truth.

"_Yes_," she breathed, closing her eyes.

His voice lowered an octave, and a ghost of a smile haunted his lips. "_Good_."

Max held her breath once more and counted the pounding beats of her heart, trying to calm down. It wasn't working.

_He could take me, force me, right here, and there's nothing I could do about it. _Her knees weakened at the thought, and if he hadn't been pressing her up against the wall, she would have fallen. _No_, she told herself frantically, _he won't do it. He can't. There's gotta be something still there, something left of Alec. Alec wouldn't do this. He didn't do it when we first met, and he won't do it now. _

Max gave a little cry when Alec's hand tightened painfully on her leg, fingers digging into the flesh, as the evidence of his arousal pressed hard against her. And she began to doubt.

"_Alec…_" She called his name, and it was a plea.

It was almost as if she slapped him. His whole body jerked violently and he shoved himself away from her, staggering backwards.

She sagged back against the wall, relief flowing through her. The relief was not only because she was freed from the threat of the violence he could have done her, but because finally she saw a spark in his eyes, a flash of anger, something other than an empty abyss.

"Don't call me that!" he snapped, spinning away from her and planting his hands heavily against a nearby table that held bandages and first aid supplies. "There is no Alec. Not anymore."

He closed his eyes, feeling the pressure in his chest again. That _name_. He couldn't go by that name, not the name that _she_ had given him. That name called to the part of him he didn't want anymore, that he'd buried and locked away, but now it felt like that part was now straining to break free, ready to slip loose from its chains and live again.

He had to get away from her. Had to send her away, before she made him feel things he didn't want to feel.

_Emotions are the enemy._

With a harsh cry, he swept his arm along the table, sending bottles and bandages flying. Then his arms collapsed, and he fell forward, letting his forehead sink down until it rested on the table.

Max leaned against the wall, panting. For the first time since she stepped into the room, she felt a glimmer of hope. Anger was better than nothing. At least it proved that he could still feel _something_.

Max pushed away from the wall, gathering her wits. It was probably dangerous, but she had to keep him riled, keep him responding in some way. She knew how to deal with anger. Anything was better than that empty shell.

She managed to work a bit of righteous indignation into her voice. Not all of it was faked. She'd often felt that when dealing with Alec before, and she needed something familiar to hang on to, because nothing of what she now saw in him reminded her of Alec.

"What do you think you're doing?! Fighting openly as 494? You fucking idiot! It won't be long before White catches up with you."

He slowly stood up and turned to face her, and Max's heart sank when once again those eyes were empty.

"Good," he said flatly. "Maybe he'll end my miserable existence once and for all. These clowns they've been throwing at me sure can't seem to get the job done."

Max's mouth dropped open. She couldn't believe that he would actually say that, that he would want that. She's been expecting a fight, an angry denial, but not _that_.

"You should be happy, Max," he said, and Max realized it was the first time he had actually acknowledged her by name. "I'm finally living up to the image you always had of me."

He must have detected some look in her face, been able to somehow read her thoughts, because his lips once again twisted into that mockery of his infamous smirk.

"Oh, poor Maxie. Blames herself for sending me over the edge. Gotta come all the way down here to fix it, make it better, so she can sleep with a clean conscience. Well, guess what, Max? Fuck you. You think the whole world revolves around you and your woe-is-me life? You are so fucking conceited. I'm in charge of my own life, and I can make my own fucking decisions. It had nothing to do with you. The only thing you did was make me see that I needed to stop fighting who I am. And who I am is a killer. It's my nature, what I was born and bred to do."

"I don't believe that," Max said quietly, taking a cautious step toward him.

"What, _now_ you don't believe it?!" he replied and threw up his hands, his voice incredulous.

Max shook her head. "I know you didn't kill that guy," she said, knowing that he would know she didn't mean the guy in the ring. She paused, taking a deep breath. "It was Ben. He killed Timothy Ryan and ten other people."

He gave a bitter laugh, and even though it was nothing like _her _Alec's laugh, Max thrilled at the sound. She would take what she could get.

He was the one to shake his head this time. "Ben. My fucked-up brother Ben, a serial killer. Explains a lot. Explains a _whole _lot, actually. But you know what, Max? It doesn't change a damn thing. Fact is, _you _believed I did it. No matter what I said, you looked at me and saw a cold-blooded killer. You believed with your whole heart that, without any orders or threat against my life, I could take the life of an innocent."

Max felt the heat rise in her cheeks at the reminder of the worst mistake she had ever made in her life. There was nothing that she could say that would change what had happened. The only thing she could do was acknowledge the truth.

"I was wrong."

He cocked his head to the side and pursed his lips. "_Really_. Well, why don't you go crawling back to your lover boy Logan, because I really don't give a fuck what you think anymore." He turned his back on her, leaning his fisted hands against the tabletop. "Just get the hell out and leave me alone."

Before he turned, for the briefest moment, there was a crack in the wall that Alec had built around himself. In that moment, she saw anger and fear and pain, and the one thing that gave her hope that there was something of Alec left to save. She saw _regret_.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Alec."

In one swift motion, she reached down to the slit in her dress, pulled it aside, and grabbed the taser she had strapped to her right leg--the taser that had set of the metal detector. She closed the distance between them in a blur and pushed the taser into the small of his back, simultaneously pressing the button.

Alec's back arced in pain, and he jerked repeatedly as the energy coursed through him. She winced as she held it to his body, held it there until he fell to the floor, unconscious.

She immediately fell to her knees beside his prone form, taser clattering to the floor. His body still jerked slightly as his muscles involuntarily spasmed. She leaned over his unconscious form and brushed his long, unruly hair away from his forehead. She lowered her forehead to his, blinking to fight back the burning moisture in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Alec," she said quietly, her voice breaking. "I'm so sorry."

She wasn't apologizing for tasering him into unconsciousness, but for everything that had brought them to this point. She sat up, and then stood in one swift surge. She turned her head to the door, knowing that one, possibly two men stood directly outside--they stood between her and the escape route she had planned. Well, that was taken care of easily enough. She surged out the door and made swift work of the two men on the outside, knocking them out. She glanced around the corner and down the corridor, but there were no other guards between her and the place she needed to go.

She moved back into the room to stand beside Alec. She grabbed the taser and put it back in the holster strapped to her leg. She kicked off her designer shoes--knowing that this would probably earn her censure from Original Cindy--then crouched down by Alec. She reached under him to hook her hands underneath his shoulders, then straightened and pulled, dragging him toward the door and freedom.

She was determined to save Alec. Even if he didn't want to be saved.

_So what if you can see the darkest side of me?  
No one will ever change this animal I have become.  
Help me believe it's not the real me.  
Somebody help me tame this animal._

_"Animal I Have Become" Three Days Grace_

* * *

A/N: Another somewhat disturbing chapter, I know. I guess I should have warned people that this story would be a bit... dark. 


	7. Never Again

Gone

By Inzane

Disclaimer: Don't own Dark Angel.

Summary: How much abuse can a guy take before he snaps? Events in Hello, Goodbye take a different turn. AU from that point.

A/N: I guess the smooth sailing is over. This chapter decided to fight me as I wrote it. I guess it's my punishment for altering my plotline mid-story, making Alec a lot darker than I originally intended. I'm a bit bruised and battered, and my laptop may never be the same, but I think I won in the end. Maybe.

Warning: Language, violence, with a little Scary Alec thrown in for fun.

* * *

Chapter 7: Never Again

"Where the hell _is _she?"

Logan, glancing nervously down at his watch, blurted out the question for the fifth time. He had opened the collar of his white dress shirt; his bow tie was undone, the ends dangling. Original Cindy had thought that it was impossible for someone to pace _inside _a van, but somehow, Logan seemed to manage it. He couldn't sit still. He moved from the driver's seat, to the back of the van, moving side to side, then repeating the process all over again. He was just coming back up front when Original Cindy finally got tired of it and gave him a shove, causing him to land with a hard thump on the driver's seat.

"You gotta calm down, Logan. Goin' crazy not gonna help Max at all. We need to sit here and wait this bitch out. Only been thirty minutes or so." _Thirty-three to be exact, but who was counting?_

"But she could be hurt. He could have hurt her. We need to..." Logan started to get up, but OC reached over and gave him another shove, followed by a stern look that had him freezing in his seat.

"Alec will not hurt her. Max believes it, and I believe in Max. And so should you. Gettin' all bent ain't gonna change it, aiight? Max is a big girl. She can take care of herself."

She could see Logan's body was tensed, almost vibrating with a need to do something. If Max didn't show up soon, she was afraid that she wouldn't be able to hold Logan back. Hell, she might join him if it came to that.

"Look," OC continued, "no way we can get back in now without makin' 'em all suspicious-like, and we don't even know where Max and Alec are. You go after 'em, you could screw up their chance to make it out clean. Just wait a little longer, Logan. They'll be here."

Original Cindy tried to meet Logan's eyes, but they were hidden for a moment as the light from the street lamp outside the van glinted off his glasses, turning them momentarily into mirrors. When he shifted and she could see his eyes clearly, she knew that she had failed to get through to him.

"You just gotta _trust_ her, Logan_,"_ OC pleaded, afraid that he might do something to get himself, or Max and Alec, killed.

Logan's jaw clenched as his hands tightened into fists. He knew he should listen. _Trust her, trust her, you've got to trust her_, he told himself. But he couldn't get the image of Alec's dead eyes as he snapped that man's neck, couldn't get the last image he had of Max, looking so delicate and beautiful, out of his head.

"I'm sorry, I can't," he said, and placed a hand on the door handle, prepared to get out of the van and do whatever it took to help Max.

The moment Logan's hand touched the handle, the back door of the van flew open. Both Logan and Original Cindy jumped in their seats, then turned in unison to look out the back of the van.

Max stood outside the back door, partially bent over as she had Alec over her shoulder in a fireman's carry. As a transgenic, she had no trouble with the weight initially, but lugging him up two flights of stairs had begun to wear down even her transgenic strength. Alec's greater height had also been a bit hard to handle, making him an awkward burden. Logan and OC watched, mouths open in shock, as Max unceremoniously dumped Alec off of her shoulder onto the floor of the van.

Max rested for a moment, placing both hands on the bumper of the van and leaning heavily against it, head hanging down. She was worn out. The remaining guards had been a piece of cake--they were almost pathetic, really. The Russian Mafia apparently hadn't expected infiltration from the inside, and certainly hadn't been expecting a woman in evening wear to kick their collective asses.

Carrying Alec had actually been hardest part, since she gave up dragging him after the first two minutes. It was too difficult, and left her back exposed. During the trek up the stairs, she had paused long enough to put her hair back up in a haphazard bun so it would be out of her face, and during her journey several sweaty strands had escaped to hang down, clinging to her face and neck. She had also tied the ends of her dress around her waist so she wouldn't trip over it. All in all, as she wearily climbed into the back of the van, letting herself collapse beside Alec's prone form, she knew she looked a mess.

"Go," she said in a tired voice, panting slightly. "We gotta blaze before someone comes across the guards I knocked out."

When Logan sat there, frozen, still staring at Max in wide-eyed shock, Max rolled her eyes to Original Cindy, sending her a pleading look. Thankfully, OC was quick to respond and pulled Logan out of the driver's seat, shoving him toward the back.

"Want somethin' done right," OC grumbled as she turned the key in the ignition, "don't ask a man ta do it." With that, she peeled out, picking a direction at random.

Logan moved toward Max, coming to kneel beside her. He reached forward to help her up, then stopped mid-motion when he saw that she had removed the long gloves that had protected him from her touch. He pushed himself backwards, coming to sit with his back to the wall of the van. He couldn't even help her up. He looked down at his useless hands, and felt more helpless at that moment than he had the entire time Max had been gone.

His gaze traveled to Alec, who appeared to be out cold, and then back to Max, who looked like… well, like she'd carried a one-hundred and eighty pound man up several flights of stairs. He tried not to let it bother him how Max's bare arm touched Alec's from shoulder to elbow, how her head was turned slightly toward him, a look of relief on her face.

"What happened?" Logan asked, and he hated that his voice was unsteady.

Max slowly lifted her hand, holding up one finger in a gesture to wait. "Hold that thought," she replied in a voice strained with weariness.

With a grunt, she rolled and pushed herself up to a crouching position. Logan's eyebrows shot up as Max grabbed a hold of Alec's wrists and began to drag him toward the front of the van. When his hands were almost touching the seats, she stopped, then reached over to her bag, dug into a side pocket and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. She slapped one cuff onto his wrist, then wrapped the other one around the undercarriage of the passenger seat before cuffing Alec's other wrist.

Original Cindy, who had glanced back long enough to see Max cuffing Alec, frowned as she navigated the streets of Los Angeles. If it had come to this, then Max must be really worried about what Alec might do. She didn't want to say anything negative, especially since Max had busted her ass to get Alec outta there, so she tried to keep her tone light.

"Boo, not to question your methods or anythin', but isn't that a little kinky for a rescue mission?" The comment was flip, but her voice was slightly strained, betraying her true emotions.

Max straightened as much as she could in the back of the van, swaying slightly to compensate for its motion. She then reached down to remove the taser from her leg. "Here, hold this," she said, tossing it to Logan, who made a fumbling catch. He glanced down at the device and then back up at Max, putting two and two together.

"He wasn't in a… umm… _cooperative _mood. Had to use a little persuasion," Max said casually with a shrug, trying to downplay what had happened. Just thinking about it made her heart rate increase. Thank God she had thought to bring the handcuffs she had stolen from a sector cop a while back. "I gave him a good jolt, so he'll be out for a little while yet. He's … uh… he's not gonna be too happy when he wakes up, so I figured I'd better cuff him."

Her lips turned down slightly as she took in Alec's unconscious form. He looked so peaceful, and so terribly young. She knew that peace wasn't going to last long, and she needed to take care of some business, so she could be prepared for when he woke up and realized what she had done.

"Cin, I need you to find us a hospital. Check the map. I gotta pick up some stuff I'm gonna need to keep him under control. Then we gotta get out of L.A. They'll probably be looking for him. And me."

"That's just perfect. A perfect end to a perfectly wonderful trip," Logan said, letting his head fall back against the side of the van with an audible thud, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Max bristled slightly at the edge in his tone. "And just what exactly are we going to do with him, Max? This isn't the devil-may-care, screw-up, bike messenger we all remember. Are we just supposed to pat his head, take him back to Seattle, and pretend all of this never happened?"

"Not what I had in mind, no," she replied, a little colder than she had intended, but goddammit, Logan's tone was really pissing her off.

Logan pushed himself away from the wall of the van. He crouched and moved toward her, his anger now completely evident on his face. "Well, why don't you clue us in on what you _do_ have in mind, Max. I think Original Cindy and I deserve to know what we are getting into."

"Hey, don't drag me into this," OC called back from the driver's seat. She wanted no part of the inevitable fight that was going to happen. The van suddenly slowed as OC pulled into the parking lot of the closest hospital, which, as luck would have it, had only been a couple of blocks from the fight club. "We're here, Max. Where you want me to park it?"

A deep line carved itself between Max's brows as she frowned at Logan. She continued to stare him down as she called up front to Cindy, "Take it 'round back. See if you can find a service entrance or somethin'."

She tilted her head, and the frown suddenly disappeared as if it had never been there, replaced by a casual, completely unaffected look that made Logan grind his teeth. She was dismissing his concerns--_still--_and it was pissing him off.

Max plopped down next to Alec, then dragged her bag closer to her and started rummaging. She didn't look at him when she spoke. "I got stuff I need to take care of first, but you and me, Logan, we are gonna have ourselves a little discussion soon enough." As the vehicle rolled to a stop, she pulled a dark shirt out of her bag. "Hop outta the van, will ya? I gotta change."

Logan's face screwed up in incredulity. "I'm not leaving you back here with _him_."

In the driver's seat, OC cringed at Logan's poorly chosen words. The man really did not know Max at all if he thought that macho shit was gonna work.

Max rolled her eyes at Logan. "Oh, come on. Even if he wakes up in the _two minutes_ it'll take me to change, he's secured. Leave me the taser, if you're so concerned." She lifted her head, and saw something more than concern in his eyes, something possessive that made her instinctively want to rail against it. He hadn't the right.

"And if he does wake up," she added with a huff, "it's not like he hasn't seen it all before." Max had meant her words in the general sense, knowing that Alec had probably seen more naked women in his twenty-one years than most men saw in a lifetime.

Logan spoke before he could stop himself, his anger making him say something he would have normally kept to himself--those niggling fears he had about the nature of Max and Alec's true relationship.

"Has he seen all of _you_ before, Max?"

Up front, Original Cindy's eyes widened, and she pushed open the door hastily. "Okay, I think that'd be my cue to get some air." She hopped out of the van, carefully closing the door behind her in case the noise might jar Alec awake.

Max had stilled at Logan's question, locking her eyes onto his, her own hard. "I'm not even gonna dignify that with a response. Get out."

Realizing he had gone too far, that he had spoken without thought, hadn't filtered his words, Logan stammered, trying to repair the damage. "Max, I sorry. I just..."

"Get out!" Max whispered harshly, closing her eyes. She couldn't bear to look at him right now. She couldn't believe that they had fallen so far from what once was, that _this _was what they had come to.

She heard the soft clank of noise as Logan lowered the taser to the floor of the van. Only when she felt the van shift, when she heard the back door open and then close, did she open her eyes. Her gaze landed on Alec, and she sighed heavily, leaning over to brush his long, unruly bangs away from his closed eyes.

"You'd better be in there, Alec. Don't make all of this be for nothin'."

She ran her hand through his hair one last time, then straightened as much as she could and slipped the straps of the dress off of her shoulders, letting it drop to the floor of the van. Clad only in very abbreviated lacy white lingerie, she smirked down at him.

"You're gonna be _so _sorry you slept through this, pretty boy," she muttered, then undid the clasp of her bra. Lace and larceny just didn't go together.

* * *

Five minutes later, Max hopped out of the back of the van, clad in a black, skin hugging, long-sleeved shirt, and baggy, low-riding jeans. After a minor battle with a hairbrush, she had managed to straighten out her hair a bit so it didn't look like she had just come from a cat fight. She'd snugged a beanie cap over her head to help keep it out of her way, and the strap from a messenger bag was slung across her chest.

"Okay," she said, addressing Logan and Original Cindy, tossing the taser to Logan, "he's still out, and hopefully he'll stay that way until I get back, but I seriously doubt it. If he even twitches, breathes funny, whatever--don't hesitate; just hit him with the taser. I should be back in fifteen, twenty minutes tops." With that, she took off in a blur.

OC looked at Logan, shrugged, and then climbed into the back of the van. Logan closed his eyes and counted to ten, praying for a little more control over his ragged emotions, then climbed in after her, pulling the door closed behind him.

Once inside, Logan handed OC the taser. She didn't understand why until she saw him reach into a side compartment of his suitcase and pull out a gun.

"Hold up! Hold up!" Cindy cried out, moving between Logan and Alec, holding up her hands. "What the _hell _you think you're doin' wit' that?! You can't shoot 'im!"

Logan looked at OC intently, his face deadly serious. "I'm not going to sit back here, unarmed, with a genetically engineered super-being who, less than an hour ago, snapped a man's neck like it was a twig. Max may trust him, but I don't. That is not Alec over there. That's a trained killer. A murderer."

OC put her hands to Logan's chest and pushed him back, trying to edge him toward the rear doors of the van. "Maybe you should wait outside, Logan. I'll watch him. I got the taser." The thought of staying alone in the van with Alec was a bit frightening, but she was willing to risk it to make sure that Logan didn't hurt him, or worse, kill him. No matter what Alec had done, he didn't deserve that.

Logan resisted the push. He glanced for a moment at Original Cindy, still clad in her golden dress and heels. She thought she could handle him? He dismissed the idea and moved his eyes back to Alec.

"No," he replied succinctly, training his weapon on the unconscious form of 494. "I'm not trusting our lives to a taser."

OC shook her head and rubbed the back of her neck, which she suddenly realized was achingly tight. This was a side of Logan she hadn't really seen before. When she looked back up at him, looked into those intense blue eyes, she was afraid that Logan just might do it. If Alec even breathed funny, Logan just might pull that trigger.

"You shoot him," OC said slowly, carefully enunciating each of her words to make her point crystal clear, "Max will never forgive you."

Logan's face was a stone as he tightened his grip on the gun. "That's a risk I'm willing to take."

* * *

When Logan heard the back door of the van begin to open, he hastily put away his gun, shoving it into the waistband of his tuxedo pants at the small of his back. He quickly covered the gun with his jacket as Max was climbing in the back. He didn't want to have to explain the gun to Max, considering her feelings about them. He also didn't want a confrontation in front of Original Cindy about Max's feelings for the particular individual he'd been pointing the gun at. He knew, sooner or later, they were going to have to figure that one out, but he'd rather not have an audience for that discussion. He glanced up at OC to see if she would rat him out, but she just stared at him, lips twisted in mild disapproval.

As soon as she entered the van, closing the door behind her, Max's eyes went immediately to Alec. She looked at him as she unslung the now bulging messenger bag from her shoulders and pulled the beanie cap from her head, tossing both to the floor. She relaxed slightly when she saw he was still out, but then did a double take. He shouldn't have still been out. Not for this long.

"You taser him again?" she asked, looking up at Original Cindy, hoping that was the reason Alec was out.

"Uh uh," Cindy replied, shaking her head. "Hasn't budged." _And thank God for that_, OC added silently. If he had, she might have been explaining to Max how Alec had come to be riddled with bullet holes.

Max tensed, going into a crouch at the back of the van. "Shit. The two of you, get out of the van. Now."

Logan, who was near the back of the van, ignored Max's order, instead moving his hand to the small of his back, hovering over his concealed gun, unsure if he should pull it. Original Cindy, who had been sitting next to Alec, planning to taser him if he even twitched so Logan wouldn't shoot him, immediately began to back away and inch toward the end of the van.

Before she could move a foot, Alec's legs suddenly shot out and wrapped around her waist, causing her to let out a yelp as he pulled her to him. The taser she had been holding clattered to the floor, and Max's hand shot out to pick it up. OC struggled to break free, but was no match for Alec's transgenic strength.

"Uh _uuuuuh_…" Alec drawled, head now lifted and eyes completely alert and staring challengingly into Max's. His biceps bulged as he strained against his bonds, and he tightened his legs, pulling Cindy closer to his body. "You use that on me, you'll hurt her."

Max's grip on the taser tightened. "She'll live," she said with a bravado she didn't feel.

The corner of Alec's mouth twitched lightly. "Oh, I don't know about that. With how long you'll need to use that on me to knock me out again, you could kill her. Or I could snap her in half before you disable me."

Deep inside, he heard a tiny voice whisper _Don't_, but his survival instinct allowed him to ignore it. Closer to the surface, a much louder voice told him _Collateral damage is acceptable._

OC shook her head furiously, still straining against Alec's hold. "Don't listen to him, Max," she said, struggling to get the words out as Alec's legs squeezed her. "He won't do it. He won't hurt me." She cried out when his legs tightened painfully. _Oh, God, please let me be right. Please, please let me be right._

"You so sure about that?" Alec asked, directing his question more to Max than to Original Cindy. His voice low and dangerous.

Max felt her blood run cold. Her hands were tied. She couldn't risk Original Cindy, but she couldn't let Alec go. She was locked in a fucking standoff. She had to do something, stall him somehow, distract him so she could get in the messenger bag without him noticing. _Yeah, and maybe I could make a few pigs fly while I'm at it._

"Alec…" she said, hoping the sound of his name would have the same affect now as it had before.

At the use of the name that was once his, he smirked, and, dear God, it was Alec's smirk. The same one that had haunted her dreams during the rare times she had actually slept. Despite the seriousness of the situation, despite the fact that her friend's life was in real danger, her heart leapt at the sight of it.

He shook his head slowly, as if chastising her. "That's not going to work a second time, bitch. Now, I suggest you drop the taser and let me out of these _cuffs_," he accentuated the word by yanking hard on the offending restraints, "or I'll have to return your friend to you in pieces."

Max slowly lowered the taser to the floor of the van, the raised up in a half crouch, hands palm out in the universal hey-I'm-harmless gesture.

"She's your friend too, Alec," Max said. She kept her voice calm and level, a tone that would be recognized by hostage negotiators anywhere. Maybe, if she could remind him enough of the person he once was, she would be able to reach him.

But that, apparently, had been the wrong thing to say.

His eyes went cold and dead, and any hint of expression, of emotion, fell from his face.

"I don't have any _friends_."

Max's eyes flicked to Original Cindy's, and she could see panic and fear there, but she also saw trust. Now, all she had to do was make sure she was worthy of that trust.

Max fell to her knees, head falling forward as she rested her hands on her thighs. She couldn't wrap her head around it, couldn't make it make sense. Alec was smarter than this. Sure, she'd always accused him of being a screw up, but a lot of that had been just talk. Waiting until she had returned was a tactical error, one she didn't think this new version of Alec would have made. She shook her head, and then raised it, forcing herself to meet that cold gaze.

"I don't get it. It would've made more sense to make a move while I was gone. Why'd you wait until I got back? "

"Why don't you ask your boyfriend, there," he growled, and his gaze shifted to the left.

In all the excitement, Max had almost completely forgotten about Logan. She turned, and her mouth hung open in shock as she saw Eyes Only had a 9MM Beretta trained on X5-494, his finger tense on the trigger. He had drawn the weapon again when Alec had grabbed Cindy, and Max had been too focused on Alec and OC to notice.

A wave of revulsion swept through her at the sight of the gun. Guns brought nothing but pain and death. If Logan fired, Alec could easily move Original Cindy into the path of the bullet. If Alec didn't use Cindy as a shield, Logan could end up killing him. She didn't search for so long and travel so far to lose him now.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Max hissed. "Put that away!" She would have taken the gun from him, but with Logan's finger already on the trigger, she didn't want to risk it.

Logan shook his head ever so slightly and kept his aim true. "I can't do that, Max. He's dangerous. You may be blind to it, but I'm not."

Max felt the tension building in her muscles, urging her to do something. She turned her body so she could keep one eye on Alec, and one eye on Logan.

"You're forcing his hand, Logan. I need to diffuse this situation, and you are just making it worse. Now put down the fucking gun." When he didn't move, Max made a frustrated noise in the back of her throat and ran a hand through her hair. She was beginning to wish she had left his ass behind in Seattle.

"Do you really think I'm gonna stand by and let you shoot him?"

Those words got through to him, and Logan shifted his now uncertain gaze to hers, taking his eyes off Alec for just a moment. But that moment was all Alec needed. In a flash, he unwrapped his legs from around Original Cindy, then drew them back, planted his bare feet in her back and shoved, sending her crashing into Logan and Max.

As OC crashed into him, Logan's finger involuntarily tightened on the trigger, and the gun went off. For a moment, his heart stopped as he thought he had done it, that he had taken a life. For all of his bravado while holding the gun on Alec, he never really prepared himself for the consequences of actually firing a bullet. His heart started beating again when he realized the crash caused his aim to no longer be true, and instead of sinking a bullet into Alec's chest, it hit him in the upper thigh. The X5's only reaction was a grunt. Then he was on the move.

Alec forcefully curled his body, flipping his legs up and bracing his feet against the bottom of the passenger seat while he yanked his cuffed hands back with all of his transgenic might. With a metallic squeal followed by a snap, the undercarriage of the seat gave way, but the force of Alec's pull had also snapped the chain between the two cuffs. He was free.

When Max fell, she had enough presence of mind to throw her body to the side, falling away from Logan and saving his life. As she scrambled out from under Original Cindy, she could see that she was going to be too late. Alec was scrambling over the driver's seat, kicking the door open. She scrambled for the messenger bag she had dumped on the floor, all the time watching Alec, watching him disappear out the door. She only had seconds to follow, or she would lose him. She snagged what she wanted from the bag--a pressure syringe she had already pre-loaded while in the hospital. She rolled and kicked open the back door of the van, and took off after him.

They were two blurs across the parking lot. Alec's bare back made him easy to locate, his skin seeming to glow like a beacon. She began to close the distance. Once she was close enough, she took a risk and leapt. She caught him in a flying tackle, and sent both of them crashing to the ground in a tangle of arms and legs. She felt the stinging burn as her skin was scraped in several places by contact with asphalt. For one crazy moment, as they disengaged and rolled, both coming up into a fighting stance, Max mentally cringed at the thought of Alec's unprotected upper body being torn up by the asphalt. He'd been getting hacked and slashed for God knew how long in that wacked out death fight club, and she was worried about him getting scraped up. _Jesus_.

Alec stood, panting lightly, the now separated cuffs still circling each wrist. Blood slowly oozed down his leg and from his wrists, where the cuffs had split the skin when he had yanked himself free. He tilted his head at her, much like he had in the ring after he had snapped that man's neck, a challenge in his eyes.

"Why bother, Max? You can't win. I'm stronger than you are." His voice was more animated--more _Alec_--and she thrilled to hear it. It was dangerous, but maybe fighting with him was the answer. It was something he was used to when they were together, and maybe it called to the part of him that she knew--had to _believe_--was still somewhere deep inside.

Max gave him a predatory smile, flipped her hair over her shoulder, and raised her fists, prepared to fight.

"Bring it, pretty boy."

Max's predatory smile was answered by his own, and he launched himself at her, turning and letting his foot fly in a spinning kick. Max ducked the blow, then rose up just in time to block as he brought one cuffed hand around in a backhanded blow in an attempt to smash her in the head. She then went on the offensive, launching several blows and kicks. The cuffs on his wrists jangled as they fought, trading a furious barrage of punches, which ended in Alec putting a hand up and catching her fist in his, stopping it mid-blow before it could hit his face.

Max had put all of her might into that punch, and he had stopped it like it was nothing. She took a millisecond to think _God, he's strong_, before sending her arm blurring behind her, to snag the pressure syringe she had jammed into her back pocket. Her arm blurred back up, and he tried to stop her, to block her, but she blurred her hand under his arm and jammed the syringe against his neck, depressing the plunger at the instant the syringe made contact with his skin.

He knocked her hand away, sending the syringe skittering off into the darkness. Another round of blows followed, but this time, Alec was able to latch onto her right arm. He spun and then flipped her, bringing her down hard on the hood of a nearby car, so hard that the impact shattered the glass of the windshield. He immediately climbed on the hood, looming over her as he straddled her. His left arm was braced by her head, and his right was fisted in her shirt.

"You should have listened to me," he said, and she could see the emotion bleed out of his eyes, becoming flat and lifeless. Alec had left the building.

Suddenly, his eyes clouded and his left arm buckled. He collapsed, falling forward on top of her. Taking in a deep breath in relief, Max grabbed Alec's shoulders, wrapped her legs around his, and rolled them, so that his bare back was against the hood of the car, and she was the one straddling him. He made a weak grab at her, eyes starting to roll, but she grabbed his wrists and forced them up, pinning them above his head. The move brought her face to face with him.

"You may be stronger, Alec," she said, breathing hard, "but I'm _faster_."

He bared his teeth and slammed his head back against the hood, trying to stay focused, but she could see he was fading. She could see, as his eyes began to unfocus, the fiery anger in his eyes morph into anguish. And this, she thought, was finally Alec.

"Should've killed me when you had the chance..." The words were slurred, and they should have sounded like a threat. Maybe, in a way, they were.

He was afraid. She could hear it in his voice. Afraid of what he might do, if he were allowed to continue on like this. Afraid of what he had become. That _he _was the threat. But overriding his fear was regret. Regret that she hadn't killed him before he could hurt anyone else.

She felt his muscles go lax, and his eyes began to flutter as he tried to keep them open. He clenched his jaw and forced his eyes open one more time, and those startling hazel-green eyes met hers. And suddenly, she was transported back in time, surrounded by trees and the sound of approaching helicopters, holding a man with Alec's face, with those same eyes staring at her, pleading for the same thing.

"No," she said fiercely, shaking her head to clear the memory of Ben from her mind, to make the sound of his snapping neck go away. She placed her hands on either side of Alec's face, forcing his lolling head back to her, trying to keep him awake for just a moment longer. "I will never go there, you hear me? Never."

She saw the words register, saw his fears overtake him a moment before he sank into oblivion.

"_Never again_," Max whispered.

* * *

Logan ran, gun in hand, frantic to catch up with them. He wished he would have thought to bring his exo--his own human legs couldn't keep up. He saw Max take Alec down with a flying tackle, saw them start to fight. But they were so far away--their transgenic speed had moved their fight well away from the van. He put on an extra burst of speed, utterly panicked, as he helplessly watched Alec flip Max over onto a car. He heard OC's footsteps, somewhere behind him, but he couldn't wait for her. He had to get to Max.

He was breathing hard, heart pounding from fear as much as exertion. He slowed slightly in confusion when he saw Alec fold, saw him fall on top of Max, and then Max flip them over. Then he slowed and came to a complete halt, shocked to see her like that, straddling Alec, her bare hands touching his face. It was so intimate, something he and Max could never do, that he felt a wave of jealousy roll over him again.

He immediately felt guilty for it. Max's life had been in danger, she could have died, and he was feeling something as shallow as jealousy. But even though he felt guilty about it, and even though he knew it was shallow, he couldn't make the feeling go away.

Max turned her head and saw Logan standing there, gun held down at his side. The sight of the gun called to memory the booming sound of it going off in the enclosed van, and suddenly she felt the wet against her leg, blood seeping from the wound on Alec's leg where she straddled him. She scrambled to get off him, then grabbed his leg, taking a look at the wound. He'd been hit in the upper thigh, missing the bone, thank God. She felt underneath him and could feel the exit wound. At least she wouldn't have to dig out a bullet.

"Are you all right?"

Max's head whipped up at Logan's question, fixing him with an accusing glare. She ignored his query, responding with an accusation instead.

"You shot him," she said in an icy tone. She reached up and ripped the sleeves from her shirt, then proceeded to use one as a bandage while wrapping other tight around Alec's leg to try to stop the bleeding.

Logan paused and watched her bandage him, trying to think it all through. It had happened so fast. He hadn't meant to do it.

"It was an accident," he stammered. "He slammed Cindy into me, and… it just went off."

He wouldn't have thought it possible, but Max's glare became even colder.

"So it's his fault, huh?" Her tone was casual, but the meaning behind those words was so painfully not. With Alec's wound bandaged, she jumped off hood and moved in front of Logan, staring up at him.

"You could've killed him, Logan. Or Original Cindy. You think it would've made much of a difference because it was an accident?"

Logan looked pained. "I'm sorry."

"You know how I feel about guns."

God, how could he make her just understand? She used to understand him, or at least he thought she had. But now, the great rift between them seemed to widen with every step they took, every decision they made.

"I just wanted to protect you," he said softly, his tone pleading for her to understand.

Max's lips narrowed to a thin line. "I don't need you to protect me."

They seemed at an impasse, neither willing to break the silence, when Original Cindy came running up beside them, huffing, hand pressed to a stitch in her side.

"Boo," OC panted, "you aiight?"

"Yeah. I'm good," Max replied. "You?" She looked her friend up and down, assessing the damage.

Original Cindy shrugged, all nonchalant. "Just a little banged and bruised is all. Ain't no thing." It certainly _was _a thing, something that was going to take her a long time to get over, but she didn't have the heart to tell Max that.

Max studiously ignored Logan for the moment, turning her head back to look at Alec. "I knocked him out with a heavy tranq. Stuff they liked to use on us back at Manticore. He'll be down for a good three, four hours. Enough time to get the hell outta here."

She turned back to Logan, and her face was masked with terrible calm. "I need you to get the van. No way I'm hauling his unconscious ass all the way back there."

She stared at him, and he knew she was daring him to argue, to widen the rift. But he just nodded, realizing that he had certainly done enough at this point. He clicked the safety back on the gun, then silently slid it back into the waistband of his pants. He turned and went to get the van.

As he walked away from them, the image of Max straddling Alec flashed again through his mind. He grimaced. He knew he had get over this insane jealousy. He needed to trust her. If he had trusted her eight months ago, when he had seen them together at Crash, maybe none of this would have ever happened. Maybe he and Max would still be together. Maybe, instead of searching for Alec the past eight months, he could have been looking for a cure.

If he just hadn't touched her, maybe he wouldn't feel like a shadow of the man he once was.

* * *

A/N: This chapter sort of just snuck in there. It seems this fic just keeps getting longer and longer than I intended. Just my typical inzanity. Hope you don't mind.

Might not be as quick with the updates from this point on--real life intrudes. Work's getting a little hectic... travel and stuff... and since I never learned to juggle three things at once, writing gets dropped so I can still manage to keep family and work in the air. Writing has become an addiction for me, so I'll find some time to fit it in. I'll try not to leave you guys hanging. If you were with me through "The Friggin' Cure" (_ahem... shameless plug_), you know I'm pretty good on keeping that promise.

Please hit that review button and give me some feedback. The reviews really help when I'm feeling stalled.


	8. Black, White, and Shades of Gray

Gone

By Inzane

Disclaimer: Please see chapters 1 through 7 on the many and various ways that I do not own Dark Angel.

Summary: How much abuse can a guy take before he snaps? Events in Hello, Goodbye take a different turn. AU from that point.

A/N: Sorry for the longer than usual absence, but I warned everyone last chapter that my life was getting a little crazy. I've been so worn out by all the craziness that I've been too tired and too unmotivated to stay up late to write. I will try to be more prompt in the future, but no promises.

This chapter was inspired in part by chapter two of Dooski's fic Unforgivable, which I read months ago. (Gives you an idea of how long I've been working on the plot for this story.) Anywho, while reviewing that story, my imagination was sparked about what I see as Logan's seemingly crystal clear yet, in truth, very blurry morality. My thanks to Dooski for the inspiration.

Warning: Language. Oh, and lots of Logan. (_Sorry_. _Just have patience_.)

* * *

Chapter 8: Black, White, and Shades of Gray 

Logan sat at the back of the van, as far away from Max and Alec as he could get and still be in the vehicle. His knees were bent, and he rested his forearms on his knees, hands hanging slack. His head, overburdened by thoughts and suddenly way too heavy, rested against the back of the van. He let out a quiet sigh as he watched Max tend to Alec.

Earlier, they had made a short stop at a drug store to get some food and medical supplies. This time, Max stayed in the van, unwilling to risk leaving Alec alone with either Logan or Original Cindy. He really wasn't sure if it was because she wanted to protect _them _from Alec, or she wanted to protect Alec from _him_. As soon as Cindy returned--she had changed back into street clothes in the store's bathroom--Max grabbed the bags from her, digging for the medical supplies, muttering a distracted thanks to OC as she started to lay out what she would need. OC had then once again taken up the wheel, steering them out of Los Angeles, while Max had taken care of Alec.

Knowing Max, Logan had expected her to be efficient and a bit brusque when dealing with Alec's wound--her typical _no-big-deal, been-there-done-that_ attitude. But she wasn't. She so was patient and careful and gentle, and her touch seemed so full of tenderness, that it hurt his heart to see it.

He watched her carefully cut away the material from Alec's wound, then douse it with bottled water to clear the blood away. He saw her swallow hard at the sight of it, and he tried not to look, but he found his eyes drawn to the injury he had caused. As he watched Max tend to torn flesh, he felt his gorge rise. He had done this. He finally was able to tear his eyes away, but they came to rest of the floor of the van, which was smeared with Alec's blood. Blood _he_ had spilled. He was suddenly overcome with revulsion as the coppery smell assaulted his senses, and he looked away, hand slowly coming up to cover his nose and mouth.

Max studiously ignored Logan, keeping all of her focus on Alec. Satisfied that he was not in any danger of bleeding out, Max doused both the entry and exit wounds with antiseptic and began to bandage his leg.

"You just missed the femoral artery," Max told Logan quietly, her voice eerily calm and devoid of emotion. " A half inch to the left, you probably would've killed him."

Max let the words and her silent disapproval hang in the air between them. She kept her eyes on her task, moving on to the hastily bandaged wound on Alec's arm from his earlier fight in the ring. She knew that if she looked at Logan right now, her anger might get the better of her, and she didn't have time for anger. At that moment, she only had time for Alec.

The tension was broken, however, when Original Cindy chimed in, in an attempt to lighten the stifling mood.

"Guess it's a good thing Logan's a bad shot, huh?" She tried to put all of her tough, badass chick tone into it, but in reality, she felt anything but. She kept hearing the sound of that gun going off, kept remembering how she kept expecting to feel the pain of the bullet... she had never been so scared in her life than when she heard the sound of that gun going off.

"So, Max," she continued, slowing to a stop at a red light, "what's the plan?"

Max turned her head slightly to OC as she shook out the small blanket her friend had managed to find at the drug store. "Head up the coast," Max called out, laying the blanket over Alec's half-naked form. She'd have to pick him up some clothes when she got a chance. He couldn't keep wearing his bloodied and torn jeans, which was all the apparel he currently had. And, frankly, even scarred as it was, she found the sight of his bare chest disturbingly distracting.

Original Cindy frowned at Max's response. She had been expecting to jump onto the highway, head north as fast as her lead foot could take them. "We're not going back to Seattle?" _Please say we're going back to Seattle, Max. Please. I just wanna go home._

Max gave Logan one more pointed look, then moved up to the passenger seat, which sat unsteadily at a somewhat awkward angle thanks to Alec's prior ministrations. She looked back at Alec, once more peacefully unconscious on the floor of the van. She sighed heavily, leaning her head against the seat, and for just a moment, let the overwhelming sadness she felt show on her face.

"Logan's right. We can't take him back there like _this_."

"So what're we gonna do?" OC replied, taking her eyes from the road for a moment to look at Max. She wished she hadn't, because Max looked so… _defeated_ was the only word she could think of. OC had her own doubts that Max would be able to bring Alec back from whatever brink he teetered on, but it scared her that Max doubted it as well.

Max frowned, echoing Original Cindy's expression, and her eyes unfocused as she turned her thoughts inward. "Just head up the coast for now. I'll think of somethin'."

Original Cindy's grip tightened on the steering wheel, and she focused on taking deep, even breaths. She had to have faith. Faith in Max. Faith that the real Alec was hiding somewhere in that damaged, dangerous, unconscious man in the back. Faith that everything would be all right.

"I know you will, boo," Cindy murmured.

* * *

They were several hours up the coast, near Pismo Beach, when Max pointed to an old, rundown looking apartment building and asked Logan to pull over. He had taken over driving a while back to give Original Cindy a much needed break. A poorly made handwritten sign on the building advertised that furnished apartments were for rent as long as cash was the currency. 

As Max moved to the back of the van and began digging in her bag, Logan wrinkled his brow and frowned at Max's choice of a resting place. "I don't really think this is a good idea, Max."

"I don't really think we have a lot of options, Logan," Max called up from the back.

Logan turned around to look at her, planning to list several other options he thought were valid. Like maybe dropping Alec off somewhere and pretending they had never found him in the first place. _No, no, you don't mean that, _he told himselfAs his eyes came to rest on her, he saw her removing a large wad of cash from her bag. He looked up and met her eyes, a look of askance on his face.

"What?" Max said defensively, shoving the money into her pocket. "I came prepared. You think I expected you to bankroll this whole dealio?"

"Where'd you get that much cash?" Logan asked, careful to keep his tone neutral.

Max looked down, unwilling to meet Logan's eyes. "Around," she muttered, feeling a twinge of guilt. Whenever she'd pulled a job recently, the money always went to benefit the transgenic cause. She'd never kept any for herself. But she reminded herself that this money was going to help save a transgenic, so it wasn't like she was totally using it for selfish means.

Logan's head tilted slightly and the corners of his mouth turned down. "You mean you stole it." He was pretty sure she hadn't been too picky about whom she had stolen the money from, either.

Max shrugged and refrained from comment. She didn't want to get into it with him. She had no time for morality, no time for anything. It felt for some reason like time was running out, that she had to reach Alec soon or he would be lost forever. She would do whatever it took--lie, cheat, steal, and God only knew what else--to bring him back.

She dug into her bag once more and pulled out another dose of sedative. She hated giving him another dose when he hadn't yet regained consciousness from the last, but she couldn't risk him waking up while she was dealing for the room. She bent over him and brought her lips to his ear, not caring what Logan thought about it, and as the syringe hissed against his neck, she softly whispered, "Sorry, Alec," into his ear.

* * *

Alec's unconscious body hit the bed with a soft thud, bouncing lightly and causing the poor springs of the mattress to squeak in disapproval. Max had rolled him off her shoulder and onto the bed, having picked him up in a fireman's carry once they had gotten inside the third-floor, one bedroom apartment. Before that, she had supported most of Alec's weight, with Original Cindy on Alec's other side to help stabilize him and also to make it look plausible. One woman carrying a man much larger than herself up three flights of stairs would have looked a little suspicious. Max had refused to let Logan help, because she was afraid they might brush skin while trying to support Alec. Logan was left behind to carry the bags up from the van. 

Max sat down on the edge of the bed, exhausted. She ran a hand through her hair, then turned her head to address her friend. "Hey, Cin, can you grab me a towel from the bathroom?"

OC nodded, trudging into the bathroom, her feet dragging. She returned with a long, thin yellow towel. "Whatcha need that for?" she asked as she tossed the towel to Max.

Max immediately began to rip the towel into several strips, to hell with the security deposit. "Gonna tie him up, just to be on the safe side, until I can get some more handcuffs. He's still drugged, but I wanna be extra careful this time. I'd go out and get some more cuffs now, but I'm just so fucking tired, I'd probably botch it and end up getting my ass arrested. I seriously need to crash."

"Original Cindy can get behind _that, _girlfriend. After a shower, that is. Must be covered in a full inch of road grime." OC took a moment to really look at her friend, noting the dark circles and the drooping eyelids. "You wanna go first?"

Max just shook her head as she tied the last knot, securing Alec's wrists to the bed. "You go ahead. 'M too tired. Jus' be sure to wake me in 'bout four hours, 'kay?" Max's last words turned into a yawn.

The events of the past couple of days--more like the past couple of months--had finally caught up with her. She hadn't really had a good night's sleep since Alec disappeared over eight months ago. That long depravation, combined with the endless hours in the van and the horrible events of last night, had sapped the last of her strength. She thought about moving out to the couch in the living room, but then discarded the idea. She lowered herself down on the bed next to Alec, facing away from him, curling until her back lightly brushed against his side. She was too tired to notice that her back involuntarily curved, increasing the contact. She let loose a heavy sigh, and it seemed that all of the tension drained from her, and she closed her eyes and immediately slipped into oblivion.

* * *

Logan struggled with the door to the apartment, both girls' bags slung over his shoulders, while his suitcase sat beside him. His arms were tired from lugging the baggage up three flights of stairs, and the door to the apartment was sticking in the jam. He was sweating and tired and pissed off, and so he gave the door an angry shove with his shoulder. It burst open, and he stumbled into the room. The clumsy entrance did not improve his mood. 

Logan dropped the girls' bags just inside the door, and then reached outside to drag his suitcase in. Once he pulled it inside, he turned back to the door, once again having to put his shoulder into it in order to get the thing to close. He turned and immediately looked for Max, frowning when he did not see her. The living room and kitchen could practically be considered the same room in the small apartment, which meant that Max was in either the bedroom or the bathroom. As he walked toward the opposite wall, he heard the shower running in the bathroom. He slowly, and with great apprehension, approached the open door of the bedroom. Somehow, he knew he would find Max there... with Alec.

As he came to the threshold of the door, he stopped abruptly, as if he had run into an invisible barrier. He reached his hand out to grab the doorjamb as his knees suddenly felt unable to support him.

His heart not only broke. It shattered.

He was not sure why the sight of Max sleeping beside Alec on the bed hit him so hard. It wasn't sexual in any way. Max's back was turned to Alec, whose arms were tied above his head to the old-fashioned iron bed rails. It wasn't as if they were wrapped about each other in a passionate, or even casual, embrace. Maybe it was the mere contact of Max's back against Alec's side, or the look of peace and contentment on Max's face, or the way Alec's head, even in his deeply unconscious state, was turned toward Max.

He felt like an intruder, like he wasn't needed, that he didn't belong. The shattered pieces of his heart pulverized into dust as he realized that what he felt was the truth he had not allowed himself to see. Max didn't need him. She hadn't needed him for the past eight months, except to find Alec. Maybe not even before that. Alec had been the only thing that Max had wanted, had needed, since he'd disappeared. Alec, who had become her obsession.

And now she had him.

Original Cindy came out of the bathroom, dressed casually in sweats and a tank top, rubbing a towel over her curly, wet hair. She slowed to stop when she caught Logan in the doorway to the bedroom, staring at Max and Alec.

"Don't worry," OC said, looking past Logan to see that Max was sleeping peacefully. She smiled slightly, knowing that this would probably be the first time that Max did more than take a cat nap in eight months. "Max said he'll be out for a coupl'a hours yet, so you don't have to worry 'bout him going all _Dark Alec_ on her again."

OC saw that Logan's lips were pressed into a thin line, that his hand was tightly gripping the doorjamb, and that his eyes never left the pair on the bed. She felt a surge of sympathy for the man. She knew that Max was so wrapped up in Alec right now, that she was ignoring pretty much everything else. Not that her girl had ever been Ms. Sensitivity, but she was usually a little bit better at considering others' feelings. Max stubbornly refused to see was perfectly clear to anyone else--Logan was still in love with her.

OC took a couple steps toward Logan and rested her shoulder against the wall beside the door, folding her arms across her chest. "Look, shugga, you're prob'ly not gonna like what I gots to say, but that don' change the fact that it's straight up truth. Max has moved on. I'm not sayin' she's moved on to Alec, but she moved on from you a long time ago. You're blind if you can't see that."

Logan didn't look at her. She thought at first that he wasn't listening, but then she saw him blink rapidly several times and swallow hard. She reached forward and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You need to let her go, Logan. For your sake, as well as Max's."

Logan's eyes narrowed, and he took a deep breath in through his nose, then let it out in a rush. He finally took his eyes from the sleeping pair and turned to Original Cindy. It seemed for a moment that there was a cold fire burning in Logan's blue eyes, held only at bay by the thin protection of his glasses. But then he blinked, and it was gone. He stared at OC for almost ten seconds before he spoke.

"You don't know what you're talking about," Logan said, his voice deeper and harder than his normally soft tone. His heart had decided that living in denial was better than accepting the painful truth.

Logan brushed past Original Cindy and went to grab his suitcase by the door. He then stalked over to the bathroom, closing the door behind him with a sharp click.

Cindy's head fell forward, and she shook it lightly. She heaved a deep sigh, then muttered to herself, "And that is jus' another reason why OC don't go for the mens. Fools, every last one."

* * *

The first thing he was aware of was that his shoulders ached. It reminded him of the feeling you got when they put you in the Box back at Manticore, making it smaller and smaller until you couldn't move and your muscles would scream from being locked in one position. But Manticore was gone, and he wasn't in the Box, so his foggy brain couldn't quite figure out why his shoulders felt like that. 

When the fog started to clear, he struggled to open his eyelids, which felt terribly heavy. When he managed to open them slightly, the light that penetrated the narrow slits set off a terrible pounding in his head, which far outweighed the burning ache in his arms and shoulders. He shut his eyes again, but the pounding headache didn't disappear when he closed his eyes.

He tried to put his hands to his aching head, but he found he was met by resistance. It was then that he felt the crude bonds around his wrists--well, that explained the aching shoulders, anyway. The rest of his senses, though still a bit fuzzy, returned, and he realized that he was in a somewhat shabby bedroom tied to a more than shabby bed. He tried to pull against the bonds, but the effort increased the pounding in his head, and he was unable to stifle a groan.

"Hey. You're finally awake."

The sound of that feminine voice caused him to mutter _Fuck_ vehemently under his breath, the events of the previous night playing back at high speed. He slit his eyes to look on the cause of his current predicament. The light assaulted his eyes once again, and he must have still been under the influence of whatever drug she had given him, because he couldn't stop himself from wincing.

He felt the weight on the bed shift as she sat down on the edge to his right. "Guess I gave you a little too much. You're gonna have a hell of a hangover."

"Oh, you _bitch_," he growled through his teeth, which were now gritted against the pain.

"You know it," Max answered his taunt with a crooked grin.

He turned his head, slowly so as not to aggravate its already incessant pounding, to look at his bound wrists. He gave her a sardonic smirk when he saw his bonds only consisted of ripped up towels.

"Do you think this is gonna hold me?" he asked incredulously.

Max's smile widened at that. "I know it will."

He tried to pull free of his restraints--it should have been easy to break the simple cloth. But he found that he had no strength. That couldn't be right. He was awake, so the sedative should've worn off. He cursed, continued his feeble attempts to break free, then gave up. He glared at Max.

"What the fuck did you give me?"

Max's smile turned into a smirk, much like the one that always used to grace Alec's face. He was pissed, and she was loving it. It was an emotional response, and it felt like a little baby step toward the real Alec.

"Just a little something to keep you nice and relaxed. Until I can get some new handcuffs, anyway. You sorta broke my last pair, which was not very nice of you, by the way."

There was a long pause in the conversation, with Alec glaring at Max and Max smirking at Alec. Then he narrowed his eyes and said coldly, "I have to take a piss."

"Well," Max said with a hint of laughter in her tone, "I have just the thing for that." She could practically see the wheels turning in his head, working out a way to escape. No way was she untying him right now. She reached down an pulled out the plastic container she'd had OC purchase at the drugstore for just that purpose. She held it up with a smile, jiggling it a little.

Alec's eyes went wide, and there was a hint of panic on his face. "You can't be serious."

"Oh, I'm totally serious." To prove it, she reached forward to grab his zipper.

"Hey!" he yelped, shifting slightly to pull away from her.

The way he said it, the higher pitch of the voice instead of the deep, deadly dangerous tone he had been using, sounded so like the long-lost version of Alec that Max's heart skipped a beat. _Don't let him see you rattled!_ she told herself forcefully, then forced an irritated look on her face.

"Do you gotta pee or not?" They had a brief staring contest--a battle of wills that ended with Max the victor as Alec looked away.

"Fine. Have at it." His tone was back to the deep growl, but at least she had won the battle.

"Fine," Max huffed, then reached for his zipper again. She had to focus to keep her heartbeat steady, as it was threatening to gallop out of her chest. She was afraid he would hear it, and she didn't want him to know how much this was affecting her. _Oh, God, this is awkward_. She leaned forward so her hair fell in a curtain between them, so he wouldn't see the heat rising to her face as she helped him take care of business. She chanted a mantra in her head to try to distract her from the reality of what she was doing.

_Don't think about it, don't think about, don't think about… Oh. My. GOD!! … DON'T think about it, DON'T THINK! Jesus Christ, Max, get a grip!! Oh, hell, poor choice of words... _

When he finished and she put everything back in place, she hastily exited the room, heading into the bathroom to dump the container. Thankfully, Logan had gone out to grab them some dinner and OC was napping on the couch, so she didn't have to explain her ruffled demeanor. She washed her hands, then slapped a bit of cold water on her cheeks for good measure. When she went back into the room, she thought she could look at him again without turning flame red.

As soon as she re-entered the room, Alec turned his head back to her and asked off-handedly, "You enjoy that?"

Max rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, cocking out her hip and trying to appear nonchalant and unmoved by what had just happened. She _needed _to be nonchalant and unmoved, because she was going to have to repeat that procedure several more times until he was himself enough that she could risk releasing him from his bonds.

"As if," she sassed back, adding a hair flip for good measure. "Not like you got anything special there."

"Oh, now I _know _you're lying."

Max blinked and stared at him. His tone, the inflection of his words, the way his lips had sort of pursed... he had looked and sounded just like he used to. Like _my _Alec, she thought.

_Wait, when did he become __**my **__Alec?_

He caught the way she was looking at him, and turned his face away from her. He bared his teeth, gave one more weak tug against his bonds, then relaxed and fell silent, staring at ceiling. He didn't want to look at her anymore. When he looked at her, he found the buried part of himself that he'd tried so hard to forget straining to break free, and he didn't want that. He didn't want reminders of who he had once been. There was too much pain tied to that person… to _Alec_. The only thing he wanted was to be left alone.

Max saw his face slacken as he re-buried the hint of Alec that she'd seen in him. Max hung her head and sighed. He was going to resist her at every turn. It was a long, hard road they would have to travel to recover the man she once knew, and she hadn't planned for that. She wasn't exactly sure what she was going to do about it, but she knew that, no matter how long it took, she would not give up.

"Look, Alec, I don't know what you've been through. I don't know what exactly happened to take you so far away from yourself. I know that…" Max faltered and swallowed hard, remembering, "I know what I said was a part of it… a big part, probably… but there's something else. Something more. I know it. Something deeper that caused this."

Max watched his face closely for any sort of reaction, but the only thing she saw was a slight tick in his jaw. Other than that, he could have been a statue.

She sighed again, then walked over to the slightly scarred dresser across the room, where she had lain out all of the medical supplies. She grabbed another dose of sedative, loaded it into the syringe, then moved back to the bed. He struggled feebly once more when he saw what she was about to do, but the drug she had given him earlier prevented any serious threat of escape. She needed to go out, to get some handcuffs and more cash, and she couldn't risk leaving him here, awake, with Logan and Original Cindy. She was done taking risks when it came to them.

"Nighty night, Alec," Max whispered as the syringe hissed softly against Alec's neck. Before she drew her hand away, she couldn't stop herself from letting the backs of her fingers trace lightly across the skin of his neck.

At this, his eyes flew to hers, and maybe she imagined it, but she thought she saw something stir in those hazel-green depths. Her eyes locked on his, and for a moment, she thought she saw a glimpse of his soul, the one that was hiding somewhere deep within him. Her eyes widened, and a small gasp escaped her throat.

The sound broke the spell, and his eyes closed, severing the contact. When he opened them again, they were as flat and lifeless as they had been when she had met his eyes that first time in the ring.

She waited until his eyelids began to droop, then stood slowly. She turned her back and walked toward the door of the bedroom. When she reached the threshold, she paused as she heard him speak, his voice quiet and slightly hoarse.

"You can't keep me drugged forever."

Max closed her eyes, a thousand ramifications running through her mind because of that simple truth.

"I know," she murmured, then left the room, closing the flimsy wooden door behind her.

She _couldn't_ keep him drugged forever. But she couldn't fool herself into thinking that he wasn't dangerous, either. In his current state, Alec was like a tiger, patiently waiting for his opportunity to pounce. Sooner or later, that time would probably come, no matter how careful she was. As she prepared to head out for another round of late night larceny, she planned to think about just what exactly she was going to do about that.

* * *

The next morning, Max sat sipping coffee at the small round table in the section of the apartment that could loosely be labeled the kitchen. From there, she could keep an eye on Alec through the open door of the bedroom. He was now secured to the bed with shiny new handcuffs, and he was still unconscious. She'd given him another dose of sedative, wanting him completely out while she took care of what she knew would be difficult business. She had come up with a course of action last night while burglarizing a coffee shop, a surfboard shop, two markets, and the local police station. Now she just had the unpleasant job of putting it into action. 

Fifteen minutes earlier, she had sent Original Cindy out, armed with a wad of stolen cash, to pick up some clothes for Alec. She wanted her friend out of the way when the inevitable blowup with Logan went down. She already knew that he was in no way going to like her plan.

Logan emerged from the bathroom, looking a bit rumpled and bleary eyed. He'd been relegated to the decrepit and extremely uncomfortable recliner last night, while OC had slept on the couch, also extremely uncomfortable. Once Max had returned from her burglary session, she had crept past the sleeping pair and slept next to Alec. She made sure that she was up before either OC, Logan, or Alec woke up, unwilling to explain the sleeping arrangements to any of them. She would already have enough explaining to do.

"Hey," she said softly to Logan, gesturing to the other cup of coffee on the table and a brown paper bag. After she'd drugged Alec again, she'd made a quick run to a bagel shop to grab breakfast and caffeine. She'd already downed two bagels while Logan was in the shower, fueling her amped up metabolism for the coming fight.

Logan plopped himself into the chair opposite her, ignoring the bagels and dragging the coffee cup to him. "Hey," he grunted back, then blinked at the cup in his hands several times before taking a sip.

Max debated whether or not she should wait. Maybe she should let Logan wake up a bit more, gain his bearings. But she had been waiting for hours already, and she felt as if she would burst if she just didn't get this whole thing over with. She took a deep breath to steady herself, then set her coffee cup down. She got up, moved to the bedroom door, and closed it with a soft click. She turned and braced her back against the door, remaining in between Logan and Alec by unconscious decision.

"We need to talk," she began. No turning back now.

Logan didn't look at her, just responded with a noncommittal grunt. Her tone made him uneasy, and, when he realized that he was now alone in the room with her, he was afraid that this was going to be the kind of talk he wouldn't like.

* * *

Original Cindy approached the door to the apartment, bags in hand. She'd spent about two hours buying clothes for Alec... _and about fifteen minutes buying a totally kickin' sandals for herself, but they were on sale, and she deserved it, dammit! _

She had just placed her hand on the doorknob when she heard it. Raised voices. She froze in panic for just a moment, thinking there might be a problem with Alec, that he had gotten loose, but then she noticed that the voices didn't sound frightened or panicked. They sounded angry. It was Max and Logan's voices.

OC pursed her lips and removed her hand from the doorknob. So that was why Max had sent her out on a mission. She was planning to have it out with Logan and didn't want an audience. Apparently, the battle was still raging on. OC turned and headed back down the hall toward the stairs. She'd drop the bags off in the van and walk the four blocks to the beach. Looked like those sandals were gonna come in handy.

* * *

"Why are we still talking about this?!" Max's voice bordered on a frustrated scream. 

"Because you keep ignoring me, goddammit!" Logan's voice was equally frustrated.

Max paced in the small living room, running a hand through her long, dark hair. Her plan was not going so well. She'd expected resistance, but not the complete digging in of the heels that Logan was giving her. When she'd told Logan that she wanted him and OC to go back to Seattle without them, he had launched into a tirade on how dangerous Alec was.

"How many times do I have to tell you? It's not his fault, Logan. Not really. Between what Manticore did to him and what I did…." Max trailed off, thinking. She had already figured out that Manticore played a part in Alec's current state, she just wasn't sure how. But she had been the trigger. Of that much, she was certain.

"Alec's a grown man, Max. You can't blame yourself for his actions."

His tone made her want to grab something breakable and hurl it against the wall. He was using that condescending, carefully enunciated tone that reminded her of someone speaking to a person they thought was mentally inferior. She hadn't realized how often he did it before this, and how fucking irritating it was. She mentally counted to ten, determined to take the high ground.

"He's a grown man that spent almost his entire life having his personality ground down into nothing. I expected so much of him, and it really wasn't fair. I've had years to adjust to this life. I was so stupid to think that he should be able to do the same in the short time he's been on the outside. I pushed him over the edge, Logan, and I'm the one that needs to pull him back."

Logan desperately wanted to grab her, to shake some sense into her... if only it wouldn't kill him. "What if he's too far gone?" he asked, hoping that Max would realize the odds were against her.

Max shook her head, a look of determination on her face. She would not be swayed.

"He's not. I know he's not. I saw it in his eyes. He's hanging on by a thread, but there is something left of Alec to save."

Logan's shouldered sagged, and his voice softened. "You can't save everyone, Max." When she remained stubbornly silent at this, Logan gestured wildly with his arm in the direction of the bedroom. He was bordering on panic now, his blue eyes flashing.

"You were there! You saw what he did to those guys in the ring! You can't keep him drugged and tied up forever. There's no way you could handle him one on one. I can't believe you'd risk yourself like this!"

Max could hear the unspoken _for him _at the end of Logan's words.

Max turned her head toward the closed bedroom door, and her eyes unfocused, as if she were trying to see through the wood to the man beyond.

"If I can bring him back, it's worth the risk. I won't abandon him."

_Like I abandoned Ben._

"He's killed people, Max. Not Manticore. _Him_. He may not have been guilty when he left, but he is now."

Max spun back to Logan, her hair whipping around her. "What do you want me to do? Turn him in? Just hand him over to the cops?" Logan didn't respond in words, but she could see it in his eyes. That was exactly what he wanted her to do. She drew her head back, appalled. "That's a death sentence and you know it. They'd find out he's transgenic, and he'd be dead."

"He's killed people," Logan repeated, clinging to the one fact that decided everything for him. "He should be locked up."

Max took a step toward Logan, and the look on her face scared him a little. It was predatory, and it reminded him of just how much not like him Max really was.

"_I've _killed people, Logan. Do you wanna lock me up too?" Max asked, her voice deep and dangerous.

Logan blinked, taken aback. He'd almost forgotten. "That's different."

Max crossed her arms and cocked her head at him. "Different, how? Cause you like me and you don't like Alec?"

"That wasn't your fault. That was Manticore," he stammered, heart suddenly pounding in his chest. The conversation had suddenly gone completely out of his control.

Max stared at him, leaving herself completely open, letting the truth of her words be seen in her eyes.

"You think you know everything about me, but you don't. Not by a long shot."

Logan's head jerked back slightly, and his mouth hung open. She wasn't talking about Manticore. It was something more recent. His mind immediately rebelled at the thought, but he couldn't ignore that look in Max's eyes. He began to qualify her words, thinking of excuses, something to make it all right. He told himself that it must have been self defense, or she was defending someone else, that Max would never... _no. _Max was nothing like Alec. She _couldn't _be. Whatever Max had done, it hadn't been murder. Alec was the murderer, not Max.

Max could practically read Logan's thoughts, his emotions ran so clear across his face. She let out a short, bitter laugh and shook her head.

"You're such a hypocrite, Logan. You act like everything is black and white with you, but it's only black and white only when it suits you. Like stealing and cheating and lying are bad, unless it's for some Eyes Only gig. When black and white doesn't suit, you're as gray as the rest of us."

"There's no black and white when it comes to murder, Max."

"What would you know about it, Logan? You ever killed anyone? You ever held a person's life in your hands and extinguished it?" He didn't say anything at this. Max didn't think that he would. What could he say? "How could you possibly understand?"

Max's eyes unfocused, her thoughts turning inward as she was assaulted by memories.

"You have no idea. No idea what it feels like to hear the vertebrae snap, that sickening crunch... They would have taken him back there, would've done things to him that would have been worse than death. We both knew it... I had to... I had to..."

She bit her bottom lip, trying to convince herself her words were true, but her heart still didn't believe it. She'd killed Ben. Taken his life. No amount of justification or qualification would change that.

A look of sudden comprehension crossed Logan's face. "Ben? But I thought Manticore…"

At the sound of Logan's voice, Max's eyes focused again. She saw what she had always expected to see--a look of poorly concealed horror and revulsion. She hadn't meant to tell him that much, but she kept seeing Ben's face, hearing him beg her to kill him, and it had all come out unbidden. Now, she would have to deal with the consequences. They had never really been lovers, her and Logan, but now she wondered if she would lose his friendship as well.

"No. You just assumed, and I let you. But I did it. He asked me to, so I did. And then I ran. I saved myself. And I just left his body there for them to take away..." Her voice broke on the last sentence, as she remembered the feel of his lifeless body in her arms.

Logan's eyes were wide, but his next words held no comfort. They were what she always feared he would say if he ever found out.

"How could you do something like that?" The words came out in a whisper, almost as if he didn't say it too loud, somehow, it wouldn't be true.

Max swallowed hard around the grief choking her throat and blinked several times rapidly to keep the threatening tears at bay. "Because I had to, Logan."

"You could have left him. At least he would have been alive."

Logan didn't know what to think. Thoughts were racing around his brain at breakneck speeds, and he couldn't make sense of them. He couldn't understand how she could have done it, taken a life, her beloved brother's life. But more than that, he couldn't believe that she had kept something like that from him. He thought they were closer than that. Thought he knew her better than that. It made him wonder what other things she had done, what else she had kept to herself.

"There are some things worse than death, Logan," Max replied, shaking her head, a grim smile on her face. "You have no idea. So, tell me, why is what I did any different?"

She paused and looked at him, waiting for his response. But there wasn't one. He was speechless. But there was this look in his eyes. He was looking at her as if he never knew her.

Max leveled a finger at him. "You see? That look on your face, that's why I never told you. I knew you wouldn't understand. The only person that could possibly understand is unconscious in that room." Max gestured to the bedroom with a nod of her head.

"I guess you're right." Logan took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "I don't understand. I don't know if I ever will." He paused, looking down at his shoes for a moment. He was overwhelmed by her confession. He wasn't sure exactly how to deal with it. But he wasn't ready to lose her. Not yet. Not until he could figure out if he could live with what she had done. He looked back up at her, and the corner of his mouth quirked in the ghost of a smile. "But I can try."

Max stared back at him. She heard his words, but she saw the truth of his feelings in his eyes. They both knew that something had changed between them, something they couldn't take back. But what was done was done, and she had to get the conversation back on target.

"_Please_, Logan. I _need _you to take Cindy back to Seattle. It's not safe for you to stay here."

"I'm not gonna leave you here with him."

"Yes, you are." Her tone rung with finality.

Logan's tone was full of desperation. "That's not the Alec you know in there, Max. He could hurt you."

"I came here to find Alec, and I'm not leaving without him."

Logan tilted his head at Max, looking hard at the woman before him. "You care about him. Don't you?"

He had been steadily denying the evidence, but with Max's revelation, he found he couldn't ignore it anymore. He wanted her to tell him no, that she only felt a sense of obligation to Alec, that it was only guilt that kept her at his side. Max's eyes met his, and there was a silent plea in them, begging him not to make her answer that question. But he needed to know. He was done living in denial.

"If I'm wrong, just say so," he added softly, silently hoping that she would tell him he was wrong.

Max knew what Logan wanted to hear. She could hear the plea in that last question. But she couldn't bring herself to say it. The pull that Alec had on her had taken her over. She knew that now. It overrode everything she had ever felt for Logan. She couldn't lie to him. And maybe it would be better this way. Maybe he could move on and find some girl that wouldn't kill him just by holding his hand.

"I spent so much time and energy trying to hate him," Max began, her tone gentle to soften the blow of the words. "It kinda confused everything." She shook her head. "Hell, I don't know what I feel. All I know is that when he was gone… there was this... _hole_… "

She trailed off, drowning in a mire of unspoken needs that she was not entirely comfortable with. Her feelings for Alec were so complicated, had always been complicated. She'd pushed him away to avoid examining them, but when she'd pushed too hard and he'd disappeared from her life, she couldn't ignore them anymore. She still didn't understand the jumble of strong emotion that assaulted her every time he was near. The one thing she knew for certain was that she needed him, and she'd be damned if she let him go.

Logan felt an ache build in his chest. He felt like he was losing her. Everything they had said, everything that Max had revealed, was pushing them apart. The rational part of his brain tried to force him to see reason.

_She doesn't want you, she wants Alec. She's wanted him all along. Why can't you just be a man and walk away?_

But he couldn't do it. He couldn't walk away. His heart wouldn't let him. It was like Max was some kind of addictive drug that he couldn't live without. He considered himself a smart man, but with Max, his heart always overrode his head.

"Then I'll stay with you," he told her, still trying to hang on to something he knew was gone.

Max smiled sadly at the tenderness in his tone. "You can't. I have no idea what I'm gonna have to do to bring him back, and I can't have you here second guessing me and telling me not to do it cause I might get hurt. I'm gonna do what I gotta do, and if you want to help me, you and OC will get out of the line of fire."

"Please don't do this, Max." His voice wavered a bit, and Max had to steel herself to not give in.

"I have to. If you won't leave, I'll take Alec and we will disappear, I swear it."

With that, the battle was over. Max had won. Logan just nodded, unable to think of anything else to say that would make a difference.

"You'll be careful?"

Max saw the look, expecting the one he always gave her when he asked her to be careful, but it was different. He was looking at her differently, just as she feared he would. The only thing she could do was nod and give a weak smile in reply.

Logan nodded in return, but he couldn't manage a smile. "I'll pack up my things." With that, he turned his back on her and moved to the bathroom to retrieve the few toiletries he'd left there. She watched his retreating back for a moment, then let her head fall forward, weary from the long verbal battle.

She should have known long ago that they would never make it. She had always held too much of herself back. She had tried to be the Max she thought he wanted, but that wasn't the real Max.

Funny, how Alec always had always seemed to be the one to bring out the real Max. If she hadn't been so tied up in her own self-hatred, despising how different she was from normal people, then maybe she would have treated Alec differently. Alec, who had always seemed to be so comfortable with his differences. Alec had refused to let her hide behind the façade she had always worn for Logan.

Alec had accepted the real Max for who she was. Now it was up to her to bring back the real Alec.

* * *

A/N: Do I hear trumpets in the background? Yes, it's true. To make up for the excessive amount of Logan in this chapter, I have sent Logan packing! Just a little preview... the next couple of chapters is pretty much all Max and Alec. Can I get a _hell, yeah?! _

I think several people have referred Alec as "Dark Alec" while reviewing. I was thinking about it too, and it seemed to fit so well, I decided to have Cindy use it. Thanks to all the peeps for reinforcing my thoughts.

Please hit that review button and let me know what you think. With my crazy work schedule bogging me down (and let me just say, spending the equivalent of an entire work day on a train--part of that friggin' _standing!!_--can _so _bog you down), I could really use the support.

I'm not a review whore, honest. Compulsive liar, _maybe_, but _not _a review whore.


	9. Alone at Last

Gone

By Inzane

Disclaimer: Okay, anyone that thinks I own anything relating to Dark Angel should go and have their head examined.

Summary: How much abuse can a guy take before he snaps? Events in Hello, Goodbye take a different turn. AU from that point.

A/N: Liberties with the medical stuff. If any of you are in the medical profession, just roll your eyes and read on, 'kay? (I'd spend more time on research, but hey, I don't get paid for this.)

Warning: Do I even have to warn you about the language at this point? The muse has a potty mouth, all right?

* * *

Chapter 9: Alone at Last

Original Cindy frowned and shook her head. "I don't like it."

She had come back to the apartment, after waiting almost an hour to make sure she wasn't walking into a war zone, to find Logan packing, his face stony and his eyes looking anywhere but at Max. When she looked at Max, she saw her friend eyeing her with an apprehensive look on her face. Max had waited for Logan to leave the apartment, then sat down on the couch and explained her plan.

There wasn't yelling and accusations this time, for which Max was eternally grateful, but OC was not happy. That much was sure.

Max grabbed her friend's upper arms and gave her a beseeching look. "Please, Cin, don't fight me on this. I got enough of that from Logan."

A little line dug its way between OC's brows at the comparison to Logan, but she had to admit that she was just as worried as the older man. They had different reasons, but they both shared the same fear.

OC believed in Max, believed that what she was doing was the right thing, but she didn't want her friend to do it on her own. It wasn't the physical threat Alec presented that concerned her the most, but the mental one. Alec had had eight months to bury himself, hiding his real self so deep within that he was barely recognizable as the man they had once known. It was not going to be an easy road getting him back. Men were confusing enough without having to deal with one that had gone off the deep end. On top of that, Max had eight months of guilt to deal with, and OC was afraid that Alec would use that against her. Despite all of the trouble he used to get into, she knew that Alec was not stupid. Careless, yes, but not stupid.

"Not fighting you, boo, jus' don't see why you gotta do this all by yo'self."

Max pulled her hands back and ran one through her hair, over the back of her head, and then down to rub the back of her neck. "I can't risk a repeat of what happened in the van, Cindy. I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you." She paused for a moment, and then met OC's gaze with a piercing stare. "And it'll be easier for me to concentrate on what I gotta do if I don't have you and Logan to worry about."

OC let her head fall forward, defeated. She slowly breathed in and out, then tilted her head back up at an angle to look at Max.

"How am I s'posed to have your back if I'm a thousand miles away?" she asked, one final plea in her voice.

Max gave her a weak, but fond, smile. "I'll feel better knowing that you're safe."

"Aiight," OC said with a sigh.

Max reached forward and squeezed Original Cindy's hand, then leaned toward her a bit. "Do me a favor?" she asked softly. When OC nodded, she passed a folded up note into her hand. "Can you get this to Joshua? I hadn't planned on being gone this long and… " Max took a deep breath, then let it out in a huff. "I'm hoping he can smooth things over for me with Mole and the rest of the crew at TC. I never meant to leave 'em hanging… but... this is too important."

"Of coarse, boo. Been a while since I seen doggy-dog, anyhow."

Max's smile widened. "Give him a big hug from me, 'kay?"

OC's smile mirrored Max's. "Sure thing."

For a moment, there was an awkward silence between them. Neither girl knew how to say goodbye. After a moment, Original Cindy sniffed, and Max could tell she was trying to hold back tears.

"Oh, God, please don't start that."

OC nodded several times quickly, but she was blinking fast in an attempt not to cry and then there was another sniffle, and suddenly she lunged forward and grabbed Max in a fierce hug.

Max found herself blinking back her own tears. Original Cindy had always been her rock, the person that kept her grounded, that kept her real. Now that she was sending OC away, she felt like she was cutting herself adrift.

"I'll miss you," Max said, and she hated that there was a little quaver in her voice. It made her feel weak, and the last thing she could afford to be right now was weak.

At this, OC gave her one last hard squeeze, then pulled back, looking at Max. She reached up to wipe away the single tear that had escaped, then gave Max a crooked smile.

"Girlfriend, you are _so_ gonna owe a sista for making her drive all the way back to Seattle with Logan. Don't know how OC is gonna take all the sad eyes and the sighing and the hand-wringing."

Max rolled her eyes. "Come on, he's not that bad." When OC just stared at her, look clearly saying, _Please_, Max shrugged sheepishly. "Okay, I owe you."

"Big time. You best come back home 'fore long so Original Cindy can collect."

Max held out a fist, which OC bumped with her own. "Deal."

* * *

After seeing off Logan and Original Cindy, Max had checked on Alec several times, waiting for the sedative to wear off. Now that she was alone with him, she found herself overcome with nerves. It wasn't fear, but a strange uneasiness that she couldn't quite identify. She'd been alone with Alec before, doing runs with him, pulling jobs with him, getting stuck in a closet with him... but this was different. This time, she wasn't hiding behind misplaced hatred. She no longer had that buffer between them. The emotion that had replaced the hatred was complicated, and she just wasn't sure how to deal with it.

She was staring out the small, dirty window in the living room, contemplating the change in her feelings toward Alec, when she heard the soft rustle of sheets in the bedroom. He was stirring.

Max walked over to the bedroom and stopped at the threshold, leaning against the doorframe with hands in her pockets and her feet crossed at the ankles. While he was still not quite awake yet, she took a moment just to look at him. The stubble on his face had darkened, and his hair, though currently falling to the side while in his prone position, was still too long in front. It bothered her. She longed for the way he used to look--bright eyes and devilish smirk and handsome almost to the point of being pretty. Now, he just looked dangerous.

When his eyes slowly opened and he blinked lazily at her, she found she had to clear her throat lightly before she was able to speak.

"Guess it's just the two of us."

She could see Alec's vision un-focus, as he tuned out all other senses but his hearing, trying to verify Max's claim. Apparently, what he heard--or more like what he did not hear--satisfied him that Max was telling the truth. His eyes focused again, and he pinned Max with his hazel-eyed stare.

"Alone at last," he muttered, his tone deadpan and accompanied by an eye roll.

Max smiled, turning an ear toward him as if she was trying to hear him better. "Was that sarcasm I just heard? Was that smart-Alec-y sarcasm?"

Alec looked away, the wall to his right suddenly very interesting. "Fuck you," he growled, but she could hear the defensiveness in his tone. _Must've gotten too close to my Alec for comfort. Good._

"No thanks," Max replied flippantly. "Not into bondage. And God knows where you been lately," she added, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

After she'd said it, she was startled by her own words. Her inner voice berated her: _What the fuck, are you __**flirting**__ with him now?! Don't be such a dumbass, Max! You can't afford to complicate things. You better lockdown whatever this thing is you got for him, 'cause this is __**not**__ the fuckin' time!_

Alec apparently couldn't believe she had said it either, because he was looking at her again, this time as if she had suddenly grown a second head or sprouted tentacles. Then her bondage remark reminded him of his predicament, and he looked up to see shiny new handcuffs now securing him to the iron railing of the bed. Max had dug up a couple of lead pipes from the building's basement, and had reinforced the bed's railing with them, using and entire roll of heavy duty duct tape to wrap the pipes to the railing that was securing Alec. No way could he break that, even with his full transgenic strength.

Then he looked back down, and noticed that his clothing was changed. The torn jeans were gone, and he now wore a simple black t-shirt and gray sweatpants. It may have been wishful thinking, but Max thought he might have blushed.

"I beg to differ," Alec commented flatly, rattling the handcuffs to prove his point about bondage. He gave his new clothing a pointed look, then looked back up at her. "It's obvious you've taken liberties."

Now it was Max's turn to blush. She took a couple of steps into the room and busied herself with straightening the medical supplies on the dresser, unable to bring herself to look at him.

"Even as messed up as you are, Alec, you still have a high opinion of yourself. I guess your ego's hardwired."

She still hadn't turned around, so she didn't see the myriad of emotions that crossed his face. She didn't see him squeeze his eyes shut hard so he could focus on the fierce internal battle being waged.

Alec could feel that unwanted part of himself, so much closer to the surface now, straining to break through. Straining to make a smart-ass comment, like _I guess you being a bitch must be hardwired_. Straining to call her Maxie. To tell her that he would never hurt her. To beg for forgiveness.

He started to panic. He couldn't deal with that part of himself. That part of himself was supposed to be gone. He couldn't be that person anymore. Not ever again.

But, just as it seemed that part of him would escape its bonds, a shooting pain went through his right eye--phantom pain brought on by a surge of memories that were flashing frantically through his mind. Pictures of toothless corpses. Words like DUTY and MISSION and OBEDIENCE that were flashed on a screen. Electroshock and cat scans and men in white lab coats and endless questions and lasers, fuckin' lasers, drilling into your brain until you couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't be anything except what they wanted you to be…

His eyes shot open, and the momentary fire in them leached out until they became flat and lifeless. But Max never noticed, hadn't been able to face him, so, when he finally spoke to her, his response was directed at her back.

"When I get out of these cuffs, you are dead."

Max's hands froze, and her back stiffened. His voice was causal, as if he had said nothing more important than a comment about the weather. He was just stating a fact.

It hurt, the way he had calmly threatened her life, as if she didn't mean anything to him. She knew that he would be difficult, but she hadn't really been able to prepare herself for the true extent of it. She should have known that, when all else failed him, he would use words as a weapon.

She couldn't let him rattle her. That was exactly what he wanted, and she wouldn't let him win. She schooled her face to a look of weary amusement, burying any sign of hurt, then turned to face him.

"Bet you say that to all the girls."

"No," he said, his voice going down an octave as he slowly shook his head from side to side, his eyes locked on hers. "Just you."

"Well," Max said, crossing the room and plopping down on the bed next to him with a bounce, "don't I feel special." In reality, she felt like she was ready to jump out of her skin. He was so fucking creepy when his voice got like that.

His eyes narrowed slightly at her blasé comeback. "Don't kid yourself. You're not special. Your death won't affect me. You don't mean anything to me."

Max felt her chest constrict at his words. It seemed like he could read her mind, knew exactly the words that would hurt her the most. She was unable, this time, to mask her feelings, and the hurt shown in her eyes.

"Well, that's just too bad, Alec," she said quietly, sliding off the bed and standing to stare down at him. "'cause you mean something to me."

For a moment, Alec became a statue. He didn't blink, didn't breath, didn't do anything. He just stared back, motionless. She couldn't take that empty stare anymore, so she turned her back on him and headed for the bedroom door. At the threshold, she turned slightly and called back to him.

"I'll get you something to eat."

She didn't wait for a response, but fled the room. She didn't go to the kitchen, which was newly stocked with groceries she'd had delivered after Cindy and Logan left. Logan had insisted on leaving her his cell phone, in case of emergencies, and she'd put it to good use. Instead, she headed for the bathroom. She moved into the room and closed the door behind her--which probably was a mistake, she should keep an eye on him at all times--but she needed something to separate herself from him right now.

She sat down hard on the closed toilet lid, her legs shaky and unable to support her any longer. She wrapped her arms around herself and stared off into space as her heart pounded in her chest and her breaths came fast. Then, with a sharp indrawn breath, she buried her face in her hands. She took deep breaths, trying to calm herself.

_Come on! Come on! You've only been alone with him for an hour and you're already freaking out! You can't let him do this to you. Don't play into his hands. That's exactly what he wants you to do!_

She pushed her hands up and buried them in her hair. She took one last cleansing breath, then stood. She turned to look at herself in the mirror, bracing her hands on either side of the sink. She looked herself in the eye.

_You can do this, Max_, she thought. _You're not gonna lose him_. _Failure is not an option._

She gave her reflection a brisk nod, then squared her shoulders and prepared herself to do battle.

* * *

Once she left the room, Alec remained frozen for about a half a minute. Her words kept echoing in his brain… _you mean something to me_. His heart stuttered to a stop, and it was as if the world ceased to rotate.

_You mean something to me._

When his heart started again, it beat frantically. His vision flashed dark and light, and at first, he couldn't make sense of it until he realized he was blinking rapidly. He shut his eyes and kept them shut, then focused on slowing his heart rate. Max's voice was replaced by the other, and a new mantra began repeating in his head.

_Emotions are the enemy. Emotions are the enemy. Emotions are the enemy._

He slowly twisted his wrists in the handcuffs, then reached up and felt the reinforced railing, searching for a weakness. There was none, and in his drug-induced, weakened state, there would be no escape.

She was dangerous. He needed to get out, to get away from her. She already caused so many of the barriers he'd erected to crumble, bringing that other part of himself so much closer to the surface. He couldn't allow that.

Later, he would take action. But for now, he needed to protect himself. He took a deep breath in, then, as he let it out slowly, he let everything slip away. He slid further and further until he could no longer see the pock-marked ceiling, could no longer feel the cuffs around his wrists or the bed beneath him, could no longer hear Max in the other room.

He let himself drift, completely cut off from the world around him.

* * *

After gearing herself up for another confrontation with Alec, the rest of the day turned out to be anticlimactic. She took a grilled cheese sandwich in to Alec, and the sandwich was only slightly blackened on one side, but hey, she did the best she could in her distracted state. She tried to get him to prop himself up a bit so he could eat, but he ignored her. He stared steadfastly at the ceiling, refusing to even acknowledge her presence.

He wouldn't eat, he wouldn't drink. He hardly even blinked. After their earlier conversation, this one-eighty in his demeanor made her grind her teeth in frustration. She'd thought she'd made some headway--well, before the whole threatening her life thing--and now this! How the hell was she going to help him if he kept throwing her for a loop?

She sat on the end of the bed, with the plate resting on the mattress in front of her, and exaggeratedly munched on the sandwich she'd made him, glaring at the uncooperative asshole the entire time, but he still would not look at her.

The next day, the silence continued. She talked to him for a while, but soon tired of his lack of response. She went into the living room, plopped down on the couch, and sulked for a while. After she got bored with the sulking, she turned on the TV, turning the sound up out of spite, hoping to irritate him into a reaction.

Nothing worked. She still couldn't get him to eat or drink anything, and his refusal was really starting to piss her off. By dinner time, she was starting to worry, which pissed her off even more. How long could he keep this shit up?

Around ten that evening, she stormed into the room, stopping next to the bed, and put her hands on her hips as she glared down at him.

"If you think this little act of yours is gonna get me to let you loose or quit giving you those happy little shots, you can think again, mister! And as for your fucking hunger strike, I'll find a way to feed you intravenously if I have to! You goddamn stubborn sonofabitch!"

When he didn't respond, she let loose a frustrated scream, then spun on her heel to leave the room. She had only taken two angry steps away from him when his voice stopped her in her tracks.

"When _are_ you going to let me loose?"

Max stood still for a second, then turned to face him, her jaw set in anger. "When you start acting like the real you."

"THIS IS THE _REAL_ ME!" The words exploded angrily from his mouth, and he gave his restraints a hard jerk to accentuate his words. "You're the only one here pretending to be something you're not!"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Max asked, suddenly on the defensive.

Alec's face, so slack and motionless over the past twenty-four hours, was now animated with terrible anger. "YOU! You keep fighting your instincts, living in denial. We are what they made us, Max. We are genetically engineered killing machines. That is our reality. Just accept it!"

"We are _not _what they made us to be, Alec! You used to know that! What the hell made you buy into their bullshit, after all this time?" Max spat back.

"_You _did," Alec replied coldly.

Max's breath caught in her throat. Alec's voice, not the cold, hard voice that spoke to her now, but one of hushed disbelief, echoed in her memory.

_You really think I could murder somebody in cold blood?_

The memory of her own voice mocked her.

_Yes, Alec, I think you could._

Max had to shake her head to clear the unwanted memory. "No. It's not just about that. You can't convince me that what I said would have caused all this. Not by itself. You are too strong a person for that to have been all there was to it."

Alec shook his head slightly. "You'd like to believe that, wouldn't you? Place the blame somewhere else. But you and I both know the real truth."

"Yes, we do. We both know that this has something to do with what happened to you at Manticore. What did they do to you?"

"Manticore. That's rich. Why don't you look in the fucking mirror, Max, because right now, you _are _Manticore. _You're_ the one keeping me against my will, drugging me to make me comply. _You_. Not them."

Max felt the sharp stab of guilt. He was right. What she was doing was no better than what Manticore had done to them. She steeled herself against the painful truth. She was doing this to help him. She had to save him from himself. Had to get him off of this self-destructive path before he got himself killed. If she had to use methods she despised, become the thing she had hated all of her life, then so be it.

"Don't try to guilt trip me, Alec. I'm doing this for your own good." Her hands reached up of their own accord and pulled at her hair in frustration. "I care about you, all right? Maybe if you get that through your thick skull, you'll realize I'm trying to help you."

Alec huffed in disdain. "Who said I needed your help?"

"_I_ did!" Max replied, slamming her fist against her chest. "I gotta step up since--in typical male fashion--you are too stupid to realize it yourself! I know that the real Alec is in there, somewhere. Just like I know that this all leads back to Manticore somehow."

"What the fuck do _you _know about it!" Alec yelled, straining against his cuffs once more. "You don't know anything! You weren't there! You were still a fucking kid when you got out. That bit of time you did when they caught you again was nothing! You don't know about the things they could do to you. The... horrible... things. The torture and the brainwashing and motherfuckin' Psy Ops..."

His voice broke, and he trailed off. He swallowed hard, and then turned his head left to right as his arms strained, trying to ward off the memories, his face full of torment.

Then he exploded.

"**LET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!!"**

He yanked hard against the cuffs, again and again. The drugs in his system were wearing off, but, thankfully, the cuffs held. But the action caused the skin of his wrists to split and bleed.

Max surged forward, grabbing Alec's forearms to try to get him under control. "Stop, Alec. You're hurting yourself. Stop it!"

"**LET ME GO, YOU FUCKING CUNT!"**

"Alec, stop!" Max yelled, starting to panic. When she couldn't stop his frantic attempts, she scrambled off the bed, her hair flying, and crashed into the dresser. She grabbed a dose of sedative, but struggled to get it into the syringe as her hands were shaking. She finally slammed it home, then turned and launched herself at him.

She threw herself on top on him, jostled as he bucked and fought against her. After what seemed like forever, she managed to find bare skin and depressed the plunger. At the sound of the hiss, he fought even harder, his wrists now bleeding freely, and his voice now hoarse from the litany of profanity he yelled at her. She tried to control his movements the best she could until the sedative took affect.

Finally, his movements slowed and his voice became weaker, but she didn't let go of him. As the drugs took affect and the fight left him, she saw _her _Alec shine through his eyes; this time, the sedative seemed to completely remove the barriers that kept him hidden. Once again, there was that plea. The plea for her to end it, to put him out of his misery.

"Please, Maxie..." he begged, his voice a whisper.

Max's eyes brimmed with tears at the use of the nickname that used to irritate the hell out of her, and her chin quivered as she spoke. "Don't ask me to do that."

"_Please_..." he said again, his eyes drilling into hers.

"I _can't!_" Max sobbed, and her fingers dug into his arms as she held on tight.

His final plea was silent, but it was the hardest to bear. He looked at her with those piercing hazel-green eyes, and she felt like she would drown in his anguish. Then, mercifully, his eyelids became too heavy and closed, and his head lolled to the side as he sank into oblivion.

Max's whole body shook with emotion. She stared down at him, blinking furiously. There was a soft plop as the first tear fell, landing on Alec's chest, creating a small dark circle on his t-shirt. That one tear caused the dam to break, and Max let out a choked sob, then collapsed on top of him.

Head resting on his chest, her sobs continued until she was spent, and Alec's shirt was wet with her tears. She was weak from the emotional outburst, and only had the strength to roll off him, sliding down his side until she hit the mattress. She knew she should go out to the couch to sleep, but she couldn't bring herself to move any further. She let her head rest on his chest as she stared at the opposite wall for a while, forcing her mind to remain blissfully blank. She needed just a little reprieve from the emotional roller coaster she'd been riding since she'd come to California. She closed her reddened, puffy eyes, curled up into a ball next to Alec, and joined him in oblivion.

* * *

After sleeping for an hour or so, curled up next to Alec, she awoke to the slow rise and fall of his chest beneath her head. For a while, she stayed there, listening to the steady thump of his heart. When the haze of sleep cleared from her brain, she jerked and pushed herself off him, uncomfortable with the familiarity of the position.

She had to stop this, had to keep her emotional distance. She couldn't concentrate on him if her own feelings kept getting in the way. But it seemed like the more she tried to push them aside, the stronger they became. She couldn't afford to fall for him. Not now.

_Oh, God, is that what I'm doing? _

She pushed that thought aside. She would deal with that later, when this whole thing was over and Alec was recognizable once more as the man she had known. When she sat up fully, she put a hand to her head as it swam from the sudden motion. It was then she realized that she hadn't eaten since yesterday afternoon. Normally, that wouldn't have been a problem--their bodies had been designed to handle deprivation--but the lack of food, combined with the emotional stress, was taking its toll. God only knew what it was doing to Alec. She had no idea when he last ate.

She dragged herself off the bed and shuffled into the kitchen. She filled a pan with water--there was no coffee pot, but she'd found a supply of pots and pans in the cupboards--and set it to boil. When it was done, she poured it into a cup and spooned in some instant coffee.

She took her cup and sat down at the table. She didn't blink, but stared blankly at the cup. After a while, she took a few feeble sips, but it didn't help lift her current malaise. She pushed the cup away from her, then let her head fall until it rested on her arms, which she had folded on the table.

She sat for a while like that, drowning in her own misery. She felt like she could have stayed that way forever, if the voice of reason, sounding mysteriously like her best friend, hadn't chimed in to kick her out of her funk.

_Look at yo' sad self, wallowin' in self pity. What you got that compares to what yo' boy going through? That boy's lost himself, that's what, an' you sitting there drowning your sorrows in bad caffeine? Shame on you. Why don't you get off yo' ass and quit feeling sorry for yo'self. This ain't about you, girl. It's about him. _

Max sat up and ran a hand over her gritty, bloodshot eyes. "Right," she muttered to herself, then forced herself up out of the chair and began to root through the cabinet where she had put all of the food for something to eat. She settled on some chocolate cupcakes--the ultimate midnight snack--and began to munch on them thoughtfully. As she ate, she worked on thinking of a new game plan for dealing with Alec. Her face split into a devious smile as she thought of something that just might get him to at least deal with her.

She tossed the wrapper in the trash, then moved back into the bedroom. Alec's wrists were a mess from his explosion. The skin was torn, and blood trailed down his arms. She could see the darkening red circles around his wrists that would be sure to turn purple by tomorrow. She looked down and checked her watch, seeing that it had been less than two hours since she'd knocked him out. Plenty of time to clean his wrists up and get him re-secured before he woke up.

As she turned to the dresser to gather what she would need, she found herself humming a little tune. It was a song she'd heard at Crash, the last time she had been there. Now that she had a new plan to deal with Alec, her dark mood had lifted. She was actually looking forward to when he woke up again.

* * *

The next morning, she put her plan into play. It was brilliant, really, in its utter simplicity.

She ignored him.

She got up, got a shower, made herself breakfast, watched TV. Not once did she go into the bedroom. She heard the squeak of the bedsprings, and she knew that he was awake, but not once did she acknowledge his presence. Prior to this, she had practically spent every waking moment with him. Now, she acted as if he did not exist. She didn't know if it would work, but she didn't have any better ideas.

At first, she was afraid it wasn't working. He was utterly silent in that room. But then, sometime around ten o'clock, she heard him sigh. She smiled and gleefully turned the TV up louder.

At lunch time, she paid the landlord's kid, who seemed eager to make a buck, to pick up some Chinese. The door to the bedroom remained open, and she was sure that the fragrant smells from the food wafted into the room. She was barely able to stop herself from laughing when she heard his stomach growl.

Around two-thirty, he called her name. "Max." He called softly at first, then louder when she didn't answer. "Max!"

She sat on the couch, knees pulled up to her chest, and wrapped her arms around her legs to keep herself from going to him. She wanted so much to go in there, but she had to hold out. She couldn't let him know that she would give in so easily. It was time for him to play _her_ game.

"Hey!" This time, there was a small hint of urgency in his voice, and her brow wrinkled with puzzlement. It was quickly replaced by mirth at his next words. "Goddammit, Max, I need to take a piss! _Max!!_"

Max remained on the couch. She heard his frustrated growl, followed by a small hiss of pain when he jangled his cuffs, causing the metal to press against his abused wrists. There was a long pause, followed by a deep indrawn breath.

"I'm not gonna beg!"

Max stood her ground. It might be petty to use an overfull bladder against him, but at this junction, she was ready to stoop to new lows. Anything to get some sort of cooperation from him.

But Alec was stubborn. He fell silent after she didn't respond to his request. An hour passed, then two. She heard him start to shift around uncomfortably on the bed. She bet herself that he would only last another half hour before he cracked.

She was wrong. He lasted an hour and a half.

When he called her name at six o'clock, with resignation in his voice, she turned off the TV and got up from the couch. She slowly walked to the bedroom door, then leaned against the doorframe. She crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows at him, maintaining her silence.

He rolled his eyes, then sighed heavily. "What do you want from me?"

He was afraid she would ask for something that he was unable to give, but he was surprised when she answered simply, "I want you to eat."

His eyebrows shot up. "Is that all?"

Max gave him an assessing look before replying, "For now."

Alec closed his eyes in thought, weighing giving in to her simple demand against the possibility of pissing himself if he didn't get some relief soon. The decision was simple.

"Fine," he sighed.

Max was unable to keep her hope from shining through on her face. "You'll eat? We have a deal?"

He narrowed his eyes and huffed, "Yes."

Max smiled. "Good. I'll get us some pizza."

Max turned in the door, ready to go out and place the call, when Alec's frantic voice stopped her.

"Max!"

Max turned, brows wrinkled in question. "Huh?"

Alec looked chagrined that he actually had to remind her. "Pee?"

Max winced. "Oh. Right. Sorry."

* * *

They had been alone together for six days. Six days, and the only headway that Max had made was to get Alec to eat. He wouldn't talk to her about anything other than his most basic needs. Bodily functions were handled with clinical detachment on both sides.

She stopped giving him the sedative to knock him out, except when she changed his clothes, but she still gave him the powerful muscle relaxer, which stole his strength so he couldn't break free. Still, she worried about giving him even that, afraid that she was harming him somehow. There hadn't been any more explosions since he'd frantically tried to break free that one night, but she knew she would be a fool if she let him loose before they had resolved anything.

She still didn't know what had happened back at Manticore, but she now had a strong suspicion that it had something to do with Psy Ops. But he wouldn't talk about it. Every time she tried to broach the topic, he withdrew into himself. She was so afraid that he would hide there like he did before, that she immediately dropped it.

She timed her sleep and her showers around the shots she gave him to keep him relaxed, making sure that she would be there to keep an eye on him when the drug started to wear off. Not only because she was afraid he might get loose, but because she was afraid he would hurt himself again.

She didn't know what to do. They weren't making any progress. She had no idea how to take that next step. All she knew was that they couldn't go on like this forever.

Her muscles began to feel the strain of the constant stress, which was compounded by sleeping on that joke of a couch. She'd tried the chair once, and was amazed to find that it was actually worse than the couch. She figured she'd be sleeping on the floor before long.

It was late. Sometime around three in the morning. She was tired--even shark DNA had its limits--but she couldn't sleep. Her body ached. Her neck and shoulder muscles seemed to be tied up in knots. She needed some way to relieve the tension, or she would never be able to sleep. Back home, she used to take a bath when she felt like this. Hmmm... a bath.

She got up and went to the bedroom door. Alec slept peacefully. The stubble on his chin had become a full beard. That, combined with the long, ragged bangs, gave him a decidedly rakish look. But she longed for the way he used to look. His hair hid too much of him from her, and she itched to get rid of it.

She walked softly into the room, over to the dresser with the medical supplies. She selected a dose of muscle relaxer, then quietly administered it to him. He was sleeping, but she needed to make sure he stayed that way. She needed some time for herself. Just a little time to relax. There wasn't anything wrong with that, was there?

She boiled water to add to the bath, knowing that the apartment's pathetic excuse for water heater would never produce enough hot water. Well, at least it _had_ a hot water heater. A half an hour later, she sank down into the tub, her hair wrapped in a knot at the top of her head. An actual whimper escaped her lips as the hot water hit her skin. She sank down as far as she could, until her shoulders sank beneath the water. She let out a contented sigh, then let her eyes slip shut.

* * *

Max's eyes flew open as she awoke with a jerk. She bolted upright in the tub, sending water splashing everywhere. Her senses were on high alert, trying to figure out what woke her. She focused on the sounds around her. There was no sound from the apartment, but her transgenic hearing could pick up the sound of the next door neighbor. Sounded like he was stumbling around, drunk. He probably had just gotten in and slammed his door.

She was alarmed that she had been careless enough to fall asleep in the tub. There was something about being naked that made you feel completely vulnerable. Her heart pounded for a moment, until she noticed that the water was still luke warm. She let out the breath that she had been holding and relaxed. She must've only been out for fifteen, twenty minutes, tops. Not long enough to be concerned.

She thought about sinking back into the water, but it just wasn't hot enough to be relaxing anymore. Might as well get out.

She stepped out of the tub onto the towel she had put on the floor as a bathmat. She grabbed another towel and began drying herself. She kept her movements slow and easy. The tension in her neck and shoulders had drained, and she wanted to keep it that way. She put on a soft, snug gray t-shirt and fresh underwear, then spent five minutes brushing out her hair. As the brush smoothed her dark locks, she thought about Alec's hair again. Maybe she would suggest a little trim when he woke up, and a shave while they were at it.

Max finished brushing her hair and set the brush down on the side of the sink. She turned to grab her sweatpants, but found that she had left them in the other room. She frowned. How could she have forgotten to grab them? Stupid! She was starting to get careless. Not that forgetting her sweatpants was a life or death issue, but it was a sign of a beginning problem. The mental strain must be getting her. She would have to be more careful.

She stepped out of the bathroom into the darkness of the living room. Too late, she caught the flash of motion out of the corner of her eye.

Before her eyes could process what was happening, she felt a strong hand grasp her around the throat, and then she was flying backwards. She let out a yelp as her back crashed into the wall beside the bathroom door, and her head smacked into the wall behind her. His face appeared out of the darkness, looming over her. His eyes burned in hazel fire behind his long bangs, and a low growl rumbled from his throat.

Her hands automatically rose up to grab his wrist. Her hand skimmed across the cuff, which still circled his wrist, the other end dangling. The dangling end was still closed--he hadn't picked it somehow. Her eyes flicked down, and she saw his left hand hanging uselessly at his side, broken.

Alec had broken his own hand to break free.

She tried to pull him off her, but his grip was like iron._ Christ, how can his grip be like iron? I drugged him less than an hour ago. __He should be a puddle on the fucking floor_. _It couldn't have worn off that fast… _And that was when she realized it. _How could I have been so stupid! _

She should have alternated drugs. The effectiveness of any drug decreases over time. Alec's transgenic metabolism had shortened this process dramatically. The shots she had been giving him for the past day or two probably had had little to no affect on him, but he had played along. Pretending. Biding his time.

"_Ale…ccuugghh_."

She had tried to call out his name, but his hand had constricted painfully against her throat, cutting the word off before she could finish it.

He had moved his body in close to hers, pressing his weight against her so that she was unable to user her legs against him. Her eyes were wide as she stared up into his face. Her mind flashed back to the moment she had confronted him at the fight club, when he had pressed her against the wall and leaned into her. Then she was back to the present, and Alec was looking at her with pure hatred in his eyes, and his teeth were bared in a feral smile.

"You bitch," he growled, and the sound of his voice reverberated through her entire body. "I should snap your fucking neck."

_Somebody help me through this nightmare. I can't control myself.  
__Somebody wake me from this nightmare. I can't escape this hell._

"_Animal I Have Become"_ _Three Days Grace_

* * *

A/N: The muse had cliffhanger withdrawal. Sorry 'bout that.

Oh, and still don't own "Animal I Have Become" by Three Days Grace. Just think it totally rocks. It's kind of become Dark Alec's unofficial theme song.


	10. Trust

Gone

By Inzane

Disclaimer: I do not own Dark Angel, but if I did, oh, what fun I would have!

Summary: How much abuse can a guy take before he snaps? Events in Hello, Goodbye take a different turn. AU from that point.

A/N: Sorry for the last cliffie, people. The muse threatened to leave me unless I put it in there.

To the reviewer who said that her mom would probably smack her for reading this story because of the content, maybe it's the mom in _me_ that's making me say this, but you should probably go read something else. Reality is harsh--especially the reality I have created in this story--and I like to remain true to that reality. My characters swear. They have sex. They do bad things. That's just the way it is.

That said, I am considering changing the rating on this story to M. I wanted to give everyone fair warning before I do it, since the default rating filter on the site is K to T. For those of you who don't do alerts, if the story drops off your radar in the future, and if you're old enough that your mom won't smack you, don't forget to change the default rating to include M rated stories.

Warning: Language, mild violence, and heavy angst.

* * *

Chapter 10: Trust 

_Previously_

She had tried to call out his name, but his hand had constricted painfully against her throat, cutting the word off before she could finish it.

He had moved his body in close to hers, pressing his weight against her so that she was unable to user her legs against him. Her eyes were wide as she stared up into his face. Her mind flashed back to the moment she had confronted him at the fight club, when he had pressed her against the wall and leaned into her. Then she was back to the present, and Alec was looking at her with pure hatred in his eyes, and his teeth were bared in a feral smile.

"You bitch," he growled, and the sound of his voice reverberated through her entire body. "I should snap your fucking neck."

* * *

Max felt the pressure of each individual finger against her neck. Her pulse beat against those fingers, fast and frantic. Her own fingers dug into the flesh of his wrist, her blunt nails making little crescent-shaped indentations in his skin. She could feel the material of his sweatpants against her bare legs as he used his body to further pin her to the wall. Her instincts screamed at her to react, to do something other than just cling to his wrist, but she knew that if she acted on that instinct, she would have to seriously injure him to get out of this. 

As she stared up into his eyes, so full of pain barely concealed behind white-hot rage, she knew she couldn't do it. It felt like every feeling she had for him slammed into her, everything she had pushed aside due to bad timing and just plain fear. Maybe it was the clarity that comes in the moment before death, or maybe, at the end, she finally found the courage to be honest with herself, but, suddenly, she understood. There were no denials, no qualifications--just a final acceptance of the straight up truth.

In the rush of the moment, she didn't have time to figure out exactly when it had happened, or how she had allowed herself to do such a monumentally stupid thing, given the situation.

She had fallen.

Fallen for a man who had completely lost himself, and was, at that very moment, threatening to end her life.

If he hadn't been cutting off her air supply, she would have laughed at the absurdity of it. After all the time she had spent with him since the destruction of Manticore, after those eight months she had spent searching for him, obsessed with finding him, _now_ was the time she chose to have an epiphany. _Perfect fucking timing, Max._

She felt a slight release of pressure as he eased his grip. She drew in a sharp, stuttering breath. With the loosening of his fingers, the rage in his eyes faltered for the briefest moment. It was then that Max knew what she had to do.

She realized the risk she was about to take. She could be signing her own death warrant. But she had to trust him. This whole mess had started because she hadn't trusted him when she should have. Now she would have to trust him with her life.

When she spoke, her voice was a hash whisper, the pressure of Alec's grip preventing anything else.

"You think you got what it takes? You think you're such a cold-blooded killer? Then go ahead. You wanna kill me so badly? Do it."

Her jaw set with determination, she met his eyes without hesitation or fear. Her eyes held a challenge, much like Alec's had after he had killed that man in the ring. A look that said, _I've laid it on the line. Now what're you gonna do about it? _

Alec's eyes never left hers. There was no answering challenge in his eyes, just that green-gold fire that continued to burn.

She felt the pressure on her neck increase.

She was determined not to panic, as his fingers tightened painfully on the tender skin of her throat. She had made a choice, and she would stick by it. She refused to doubt, even though she began to see sparkling flashes at the edge of her vision. She refused to fear, even though she felt a numbing weakness overtake her, causing her knees to buckle so that the only thing holding her up was Alec's hand around her throat. Her eyes fluttered and began to roll up in her head.

She had put her life in his hands. If it was a mistake, she wouldn't live to regret it.

* * *

Desperation had brought Alec to this point…utter desperation born of fear. He was afraid of Max. Afraid because, since the moment she had reappeared in his life, she'd tried to find the person he once was. And she'd come close. Damn close. Everything that she was trying to find, it was all riding just under the surface, barely contained. And with it, he knew, was an overwhelming anguish, a flood of emotion that would drown him if unleashed. And he couldn't allow that. After all, as the now seemingly ever-present voice in his head insisted, emotions were the enemy. 

He discovered her mistake when he woke up in the middle of the night, alert and fully aware. The drug she'd given him several hours before should have made him sleep until well into the morning, but he'd been wide awake, and the lethargy that had weighed down his muscles lifted. His body had learned to metabolize the foreign substance, and Max had failed to realize it. The opportunity for escape finally presented itself.

He played along, pretending to fall under the influence every time she gave him an injection, but each time, he felt it affect him less and less. It wasn't long before the affects of the drug wore off completely shortly after the injection. The strength she had stolen from him was back, but he still had a problem--the handcuffs. Max had made sure, by reinforcing the bedrail with a lead pipe, that the matter of breaking free would not be so simple. He could probably manage it, but it would take too long and make too much noise. She would discover his attempt before he had time to get loose.

Then, the perfect moment presented itself. It was late, and he heard Max enter the room. He had already been regulating his breathing for the past couple of nights to simulate deep sleep. He heard her prepare an injection, felt her presence as she came near, then felt the stinging hiss of the syringe against his neck. He worried at first why she was giving him an injection in the middle of the night; maybe she had caught on to his ruse. He became slightly fuzzy for a little while, as the drug had its minor affect on him, but then it cleared and he could once again focus. When he heard water running in the bathroom, he smiled. So that was it. Max was looking for a little R and R and wanted to make sure he was out. Well, he was afraid he was going to have to spoil her plans.

He didn't have a lot of time. There was only one way to do it.

He waited until he heard the soft splashes of her entering the water. He heard her contented sigh, and it caused a funny little pressure in his chest. He shook himself lightly to rid himself of the feeling, then rolled to his side and scooted up until he was in a sitting position at the head of the bed. He kept his movements slow, in case her sensitive hearing might pick up something.

He waited, remaining perfectly still for about ten minutes. When nothing but the sound of stillness came from the other room, he figured she had fallen asleep, as he had hoped she would. He rose to his knees on the bed, and then moved his hands up to the top of the bedrail. He carefully positioned his left hand against the underside of the horizontal top rail of the bed. He shifted all of his weight to his left leg, leaving the right at ready. He grasped the vertical rail with his right hand to brace himself, then ground his teeth tightly shut. He sucked in a deep breath through his teeth, held it, then brought his knee crashing up into his hand.

Alec's eyes slammed shut as pain surged through his hand. He felt a wave of nausea, and swallowed hard to force it back down. His teeth ground together so tightly, he thought they might snap. His breaths came hard and fast through his nose, as he tried to breathe through the pain. He let go of the bedrail, and his right hand trembled as he moved it to grasp the cuff around his left wrist. He bit his bottom lip hard to keep from crying out as he pulled his broken hand through the cuff. When his hand was finally free, his body involuntarily curled over in pain, and he couldn't stop a soft whimper from escaping his lips.

He knew he had to move, get out, get away from her, disappear forever this time, but he found himself falling to the side, curling up on the bed, cradling his injured hand. He couldn't seem to push past the pain. It became everything, and he had no idea why. It was just a broken hand. No big deal. He'd had worse. A lot worse. Manticore had always been good at coming up with worse.

But he wasn't in pain because of Manticore. He was in pain because of Max.

All thoughts of flight left his mind. Max had done this to him. This, and so much more.

She had burned down the only home he had ever know, betrayed him when he most needed her trust, caged him when he most needed to be free.

Max had done this to him. Max had to pay.

He got up from the bed, unsteady on his feet for a moment as it was the first time he had been vertical in over a week. The pain in his hand was forgotten. He took a moment to steady himself, then moved into the other room. He surveyed his surroundings, taking in the lay of the land to familiarize himself with the battleground. As he did, he heard Max moving around in the bathroom. He moved silently, plastering himself to the wall beside the bathroom door.

Every second he waited for her, his rage increased. When she finally came out of the bathroom, he didn't think. He reacted. He hardly knew what he was doing until it was already done. And now he had her, trapped against the wall, at his mercy.

He'd expected her to fight him. He desperately wanted her to fight him, to fuel the fire that was burning within him. When his rage burned bright, he could focus on it and nothing else. Rage he knew how to deal with. It was an easy emotion, and it didn't hurt. Later, after its fire had waned, it might hurt, but when it burned bright, he felt no pain.

But she didn't fight. Not like he knew she could. Her fingers dug in to his flesh, but she made no move to strike at him. Why wasn't she fighting back? She was just staring at him with those deep brown eyes. Staring like she could _see_ him. He hated it when she looked at him like that. He didn't want her to _see_.

And then she spoke. Her voice, harsh from the pressure her put on her throat, held no fear. If anything, there was anger and grim determination. She challenged him to follow up on his threat to kill her, practically egged him on. Which was absolutely, fucking crazy. Hadn't she seen what he could do? Hadn't she seen what he was?

He was a killer. He had shown her that. It was what they were made to be. Designer genes skewed to create the ultimate predator. Born and raised to be a weapon of destruction. The ultimate in bioweaponry.

He felt his hand tightening around her throat, as if of its own accord. He couldn't take his eyes from her face. His heart began to pound as her eyes lost focus and her knees buckled.

Now that Max could no longer speak--the only noise she could make a guttural choking sound--he heard her voice in his head, his mind filling in words he knew were not really hers.

_Do it, and it will all be over. Do what you were meant to do. What Manticore made you for. Be all you can be, Alec._

Max's eyes began to flutter and roll, and her head started to loll forward. Her grip on his arm began to weaken. His heart was now hammering in his chest, and suddenly there was a screaming voice in his head. Not the other voice, but his own, screaming at him to _Let go! Let go! Let go! LET GO!_

He felt a tremor begin in his hand, then move its way up his arm. His whole arm began to shake, but he couldn't make himself let go. The muscles in his face began to twitch, and he ground his teeth together as he fought himself, waging war with a body that would not obey his commands. Part of him wanted to snap her neck, and part of him wanted to let go.

It was time to make a choice, once and for all. Was he the man they made him to be, or the man he wanted to be?

A thousand memories flashed through his mind in an instant. Of Manticore and missions. Psy Ops and demons in white coats that had the gall to call themselves doctors. Max in her cell, and the birth of smart Alec. Joshua and Original Cindy and Sketchy and even Normal. Everyone he had ever cared about. Laughter and good times.

God help him, he would be the man he wanted to be, and take all of the pain that went with it.

With a growling scream, he wrenched his hand away from her throat and stumbled several steps backward. Max collapsed, falling to her hands and knees. She sucked in gasping breaths between fits of coughing. As he watched her struggle for breath, he glanced down at his own hand in horror, the one that had held her to the wall and nearly choked the life out of her.

He had been a hair's breath away from killing her. This was the man he had become.

Max finally managed to catch her breath enough to look up at him, and that look, not accusing but full of concern, undid him. His legs buckled, and he fell to his knees. All of the feelings he had bottled for the past eight months came crashing down on him, and he curled forward in pain as he was crushed under the weight of it.

Max managed to push herself up on wobbly arms, enough to see his face crumple in agony before he curled into himself, doubling over until she could no longer see his face. He wrapped his arms around himself, his broken hand dangling, and began to rock slightly back and forth as he slowly shook his head from side to side.

It broke her heart to see him like this. All thought of her bruised throat and labored breathing vanished. The only thing that she knew was that she needed to help him. She found she didn't have the strength to get up, so she began to crawl towards him.

Alec's breathing increased until it became a heavy pant. He felt like his brain was short-circuiting. His own mind had turned against him, and it seemed as if it was replaying every horrible thing he had done since he had disappeared from Seattle. Forcing him to experience the emotions he hadn't allowed himself to feel the first time he had lived through it.

He had to stop it. If he didn't stop it, he was going to break. Like he had before.

He wouldn't let himself go back to the way he was. He would not become 494. Not ever again. He would rather die first.

So he did the only thing he could. Instead of burying himself, like he had those eight months ago, like he had back at Manticore, he buried the emotions instead. He cut himself off from them as best he could, but he couldn't suppress them completely. Like it or not, they were a part of him, part of his true self. It had been so much easier to bury the whole than to try to bury only part of himself. But he did what he could, because otherwise he knew he would lose his mind.

When he felt Max's light touch on his shoulder, he jerked upright, causing her to gasp and fall away from him, startled. He braced his good hand on his leg, cradling the broken one in his lap, and let his head fall back until he stared at the ceiling. He couldn't look at her. Not after what he had done. How could she still want to help him after what he had done?

When he spoke, his voice was unsteady. "Why'd you have to come after me, Max?"

Max pushed herself back up until she was kneeling in front of him. She swayed a bit, still a little unsteady. She took in a deep, rasping breath, then slowly reached forward, running her hands over the back of his neck. He flinched when her hands made contact with his skin and tried to shy away from her, but she wouldn't allow it. She ran her up through his hair to the back of his head. She applied steady pressure to force his head down to face her, then brought her hands around to frame his cheeks.

"I had to," she said, and her voice was hoarse. She met his eyes, and let him see the truth of her words.

He couldn't stand the compassion in Max's eyes, could barely stand the soft touch of her hands on his face. He didn't deserve it. His head fell forward, until his shaggy bangs hid his eyes.

"Why can't you just leave me alone?" His voice broke on the last word, and he was ashamed. Ashamed that he was weak.

Max let her hands drop from his face, as she could see her touch was bothering him. She knew that they were at a turning point, a moment of crisis. Anything she said might send Alec back into the depths. He seemed like he was barely holding on. She needed to give him something to hold on to, something to help pull him back from the brink.

She almost blurted out her feelings, but then checked herself. Alec was in a very delicate emotional state right now. He could barely stand her touch. Springing something like that on him could do more harm than good. How could she tell him that she was falling in love with him when he was falling apart?

But she could give him something else. Something that might make him feel like he was not alone.

"You and me, Alec, we're not so different. We both have done things we'd rather forget." Her hoarse voice wavered a bit, and she had to take a deep breath to gather the courage to continue. She swallowed, then winced as her abused throat muscles protested. Her long pause made him finally look up, and there was a question in his eyes, as if he were wondering what she could have done that she wanted to forget.

Max took another shaky breath as she prepared to once again relive one of the worst moments of her life. "Ben… when he lost it, I tried to stop him. I thought I could bring him back from the edge." Max could no longer meet Alec's gaze. She hung her head, and her words became a whisper. "We were in the woods. He was hurt. Manticore was closing in on us. He didn't want to go back there."

"Reindoctrination. Or worse," Alec muttered. His voice sounded disconnected, as if he were caught up in his own memories.

As she prepared to tell him the next part, the hardest part, she remembered the look on Logan's face when she had told him the truth. She took a breath in and held it.

"I killed him," she said quickly, then let the breath out in a rush. "I could've tried to save him, even though we probably would have been caught, but I didn't. I was scared, and I ran. I won't do that again."

Now that she had said it, she finally raised her head to look at him. Even though her head told her that Alec would understand what she had done, her heart, already bruised by Logan's reaction to her secret, was prepared to see condemnation in his eyes. But he had this faraway look, like he was somewhere else, reliving old memories.

"You saved him. What they would've done to him would've been worse than death," he said. He blinked slowly, and when he opened them again, his eyes snapped back into focus and met hers. "I know, because they did it to me instead."

Max cringed at his words. She had never before given a thought to what had happened to Alec because of Ben. When they had first met, he had said that he had spent six months in Psy Ops because of Ben, but she had never questioned it. He had seemed so casual when he said it, she had assumed it wasn't that big a deal. But maybe it was a big deal. Maybe it was the root of Alec's problem.

Alec pinned her with his burning stare, half hidden behind his shaggy locks. "What you did saved him. But I'm not Ben, Max. You can't save me."

Max reached forward to hold his good hand in her own. "No, but I can help you save yourself."

Alec frowned, and his eyes morphed from that burning stare to defeat. His voice, when he spoke, was barely a whisper. "I don't wanna be saved, Max. There's nothing left here worth saving. Maybe… there never was."

Frustrated by his words, Max grabbed his shoulders and shook him lightly. "What the hell are you talking about? That has gotta be the most idiotic thing I've ever heard come out of your mouth, and that's sayin' somethin'. The Alec that I have known is cocky, charming, funny, talkative, and hell, he's a pain in the ass a good seventy-five percent of the time, but he's worth saving."

Alec closed his eyes at her words. When his lower lip began to tremble, he sunk his teeth into it to make it stop. He wanted to be that Alec again so badly, but he didn't know how anymore.

Max once again placed her hands on the sides of his face to force him to look at her. When he finally opened his eyes, she gave him a slow smile, then ran her right hand around to the back of his neck to caress his barcode, accepting all of him, _including _494.

"_You _are worth saving," she said as fiercely as her damaged throat would allow.

Tears welled up in Alec's eyes, but he did not let them fall. He kept his eyes wide so they wouldn't fall, because if they did, he was afraid that he wouldn't be able to stop. Then he closed his eyes suddenly, slamming them shut before the moisture could escape.

He felt Max's hands trace down his arms, and she was careful of his broken hand as she slowly pulled him toward her. He didn't fight her. He opened his arms and wrapped them around her, hesitantly at first, but then, as he felt her arms wrap around him, he tightened his grasp. He buried his face against her neck and held on for all he was worth.

Max could feel tremors run through his body as she held him. She kept her one hand splayed against his back, while she continually ran her hand over his hair in a soothing caress. Her neck stung with pain where he had buried his face against it, but she welcomed the pain. It meant that she was alive, and that there was hope for them yet.

She noticed there were no tears against her neck, where his face was buried. She wished he would let go, let the pain that he was feeling out instead of bottling it up inside him. She sighed. One small step at a time.

She held him until his body stilled, until his tremors ceased and he relaxed against her. Then she held on some more.

She would hold on as long as he needed her.

* * *

A/N: Shorter than my usual, I know, but I couldn't overshadow the moment by continuing the story at this point. And it came out of me real fast, hence the quick update. I hope that makes up for leaving you hanging last chapter. And for those of you longing for a little Alec POV, I hope that your desires are somewhat assuaged. _(Yes, McWicca, I am a language dork too!)_

Please do me a favor and review. I really value your guidance--it has helped me make course corrections when I have strayed from the path--and I missed a lot of it for the last chapter due to the site being all wonky. Either that or a bunch of people really didn't like the last chapter and didn't have the heart to tell me. I'm gonna think positive and go for the first option.


	11. Closed Doors

Gone

By Inzane

Disclaimer: Don't own Dark Angel or its characters, but I do like to take them out to play once and a while. Also don't own "Animal I Have Become" by Three Days Grace, which is kind of referenced in this chapter.

Summary: How much abuse can a guy take before he snaps? Events in Hello, Goodbye take a different turn. AU from that point.

A/N: The rating has been officially changed to M. Now I don't have to worry so much about what I want to put in my upcoming chapters (insert evil laughter here), and I don't have to worry about warping young minds. If said young minds are still reading, it's on you if you get warped.

Usual liberties with the medical stuff.

Warning: Language and even more angst.

* * *

Chapter 11: Closed Doors

Max wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, wrapped around each other on the floor of the shabby apartment. She could have stayed like that forever. Sitting there, with Alec in her arms... it felt so right. Like her body was made to fit against his.

Maybe it was. Maybe, in all of the messed up things that Manticore had done over the years, they had managed to do one thing right.

Alec's breathing had evened out, and he seemed to have fallen into a light sleep, head resting against the side of her neck, when Max heard the sound of a crash, followed by drunken laughter. The goddamn next-door neighbor. At that moment, she would have happily beaten the shit out of the drunken asshole.

Alec jerked his head away from her, fully alert in an instant as Manticore had trained him to do. Suddenly conscious of the position he was in, his body intimately wrapped around Max's, he pushed her away from him and fell backwards, landing hard on his ass. He began to scrabble backwards, forgetting about his broken hand in his need to put some physical distance between them.

He felt too vulnerable when she touched him, too wide open to the emotions he'd had to bury in order to stay sane. Emotions may _not_ have been the enemy, as the voice in his head often insisted, but they were dangerous. They threatened the tenuous control he had over himself. If he had to wall off his heart in order to maintain that control, then so be it. He'd lose his heart to save his mind

As he shuffled back away from her, ignoring the hurt look on her face, he placed his weight down on his left hand. He cried out and fell to the side as he pulled his injured hand against his chest, eyes screwing shut in pain.

"Alec!" Max rasped, scrambling to help him. She knelt beside him and laid a hand on his left bicep. When he flinched and pulled away from her touch, she pulled back her hand, and it hovered over him in uncertainty. She needed to help him, but didn't want to do anything that might send him over the edge again.

"Alec," Max rasped again, leaning over him, "_please_. I need to look at your hand."

His only response was a fierce negative headshake as he kept his eyes tightly shut. _Patience_, Max told herself. _Patience_. This time, she slowly lowered her hand to the back of his neck. When her hand made contact with his skin, he jerked, but she kept her hand where it was.

"_Alec_," she whispered, and somehow, even though her voice was quiet, it commanded. Manticore would have been proud. She waited, and when he slowly opened his eyes and met her gaze, she let him see the determination in her own. "Let me help you."

Alec looked into those deep brown eyes of hers, and he knew that she would not take no for an answer. Even though he was no longer bound and drugged, he was at her mercy as much as he ever was. He felt used up, and had nothing left to fight her with. And even though he had spent almost a week in bed, he was suddenly, unbelievably tired.

He nodded ever so slightly and didn't resist her when she gently took his broken hand.

Max sucked in a sharp breath when she could see the full extent of the damage he had done. "You sure did a number on yourself," she breathed.

She figured there was no way she would be able to fix it. It would have been different if it was an arm or a leg, but the hand had too many fine bones. She didn't want to risk crippling him by trying to set it herself.

As Max carefully turned his hand to examine it, Alec found his eyes drawn to her throat. There, in a deep red that would surely soon turn interesting shades of purple, he could see the marks his fingers had left on her throat. Everything came to a halt as his focus narrowed to those reddening marks. He didn't breath. He didn't blink. He sensed that she was saying something to him, but he didn't hear it. He couldn't take his eyes from what he had done to her.

He had hurt her. He had hurt Max.

Max, frowning in concern over Alec's damaged hand, sensed his sudden stillness. She looked up from his hand, and found that he was not looking at her, but at her throat, at what she was sure was an interesting collection of bruises forming. She could see the horror in his eyes, at what he had done. She let her head fall forward until her hair slipped over her shoulder and helped hide the bruises.

"Hey," she said in her rasping voice. The sound of her voice broke him from his spell, and he looked up at her with pain-filled eyes. She felt a little flutter of hope, knowing that for the first time since she'd found him, he actually seemed concerned about her.

"Does it hurt?" Alec asked quietly. His voice was hesitant, as if he was afraid of the answer. He looked like a kicked puppy, and Max wanted so much to gather him up and wrap her arms around him, do whatever it took to make that look go away.

She gave him a crooked smile and tilted her head at him, even though the motion caused a wave of pain to go through her neck. She didn't let it show, however, and kept her tone playful. "What, this?" she asked, cursing the rasp in her voice as she put a hand lightly to her throat, though careful to not actually touch it. "Come on, you know I'm tougher than that. Voice just sounds a little funny, is all. Kinda sexy, don't you think?"

"'Sides," she added, grabbing his chin when he tried to duck his head to avoid her eyes. "I'm not the one who's gotten sliced, shot, and now has a broken hand all in the space of a week. Think you got me beat in the injury department, pretty boy."

Alec twisted his head away from her hand, closing his eyes again. Max felt a surge of frustration roll through her. 494 was gone, or at least back where he should be, but what was left was so raw and sensitive, that she didn't know how to act. She wasn't used to walking on eggshells, and it seemed that the slightest touch or a wrong word would shatter him right now. But she couldn't let him hide himself, like he had once before, when he had shut out the entire world. She was afraid that if he did that again, this time he wouldn't come back.

"Alec, look at me. _Look_ at me." When he finally looked up at her, she took his undamaged hand in hers. "I'm all right, okay? Honest. But you're not. You really messed up your hand. No way I can deal with this. We need to get you to the hospital to get it set." She could see the mild panic in his eyes at the suggestion, and she quickly added, "If we let it go until later, your transgenic healing'll start kickin' in, and it'll start healing out of alignment. They'll have to re-break it." At his continued silence, she squeezed his hand in a reassuring gesture, and kept her voice at a whisper. "We need to do this, okay?"

Alec looked at her, eyes heavy and tired. He didn't have the strength to fight her anymore. The weight of everything that had happened since he had left Seattle was bearing down on him, dragging him under. Even though he tried to shut away his emotions, there were eight months of feelings he hadn't allowed himself to feel bottled up inside, and it was a heavy burden.

Alec looked down, unable to look at her any more lest he be reminded of the animal he had let himself become. He simply nodded his head.

Max smiled at him, relieved that he hadn't decided to fight her on this. "All right. First off, let's get those cuffs off you. They'll be kinda hard to explain."

Max went into the kitchen and retrieved the key to the handcuffs from the coffee cup she used to stash it, then went back and removed the dangling cuff from his right wrist. She tossed the things aside, not caring where they landed, then glanced down to take in their current states. She had nothing on but a t-shirt and underwear. He had on sweatpants and a t-shirt, which would have been okay except that his clothing did nothing to hide his barcode, which blazed against his pale skin.

"Okay. Clothes."

She quickly threw on a pair of baggy jeans and light, snug jacket, which she zipped up the whole way to cover the bruising on her throat and to hide her own re-appearing barcode. She shoved her feet into some sneakers, then turned to Alec, who had not moved from his position on the floor. She sighed, then went to help him up.

After a minor struggle, she managed to get him up, then moved him over to sit down on the couch. She went into the bedroom and grabbed the dark blue, button down plaid shirt that Original Cindy had bought for him, then came back into the living room. He was still in the exact position she had put him in on the couch, with his hands hanging limp in front of him. He seemed to be dazed, like he'd been drained to the point that he could barely function.

Max sighed again, then rolled her eyes at herself. _Been doing a lot of sighing lately, haven't you, Max? Buck up, soldier. You got a job to do. _She mentally shook herself, squared her shoulders, then went to help Alec.

He was like a rag doll. He didn't fight her, but he didn't really help her either. She managed to get the shirt on him, being careful as she pulled it over his broken hand. She rolled up the sleeves so that they would be out of the way and, hopefully, the people at the hospital wouldn't ask him to take the shirt off. A barcode tattoo was something that people would remember. Once she got the shirt on him, she crouched down in front of him. As she reached up to adjust his collar to better cover his barcode, she saw his eyes finally focus and flick to hers. Her lips quirked a bit at the sight of him in that plaid shirt.

"Not your usual style, I know, but it's the best we could do on short notice." Before she could stop herself, she reached up to brush the hair away from his eyes, her fingertips softly brushing his forehead. "Wish it was green, though, to match you eyes."

Those green-gold eyes widened a bit at her touch, and Max, realizing she might be giving away too much of her own feelings, changed her touch so that she brusquely ran her hand through his hair, as if doing a quick hand comb. She'd have to be careful how much of her feelings she let show in the future, because she didn't want to burden him with an emotion that he was definitely not ready to deal with.

She cleared her throat to cover her discomfort, then immediately wished she hadn't as her abused voice box protested. When she spoke again, her voice was a harsher rasp. "Not much we can do about this mess you call your hair, though. I guess it'll have to do. Come on."

Max stood, then offered her hand to him. Alec stared at it for a few moments, tired mind trying to figure out what she wanted from him. When it finally clicked, he slowly put his hand in hers. She pulled him to his feet, putting her back into it as he didn't help her much. Once she had him on his feet, she wrapped his right arm around her shoulders, then wrapped her left around his body to help steady him.

She tugged on the door to the apartment, pulling the sticking door open with a jerk. As they crossed the threshold, she took a deep breath, and then let it out in a rush.

"Here we go," she rasped, and mentally crossed her fingers for luck.

* * *

Alec didn't really remember leaving the apartment building. Everything was fuzzy, muted. He could sense things happening around him, but he really couldn't manage to give a damn enough to pay attention. The only thing he really noticed was the constant pressure of Max's body against his as he let her guide him to where they needed to go.

He struggled to maintain his focus when she touched him, so that he wouldn't break down and lose control. There was something about her that seemed to break through all of his carefully erected barriers. He would have shrugged her off if he could, but he couldn't gather the energy to do it. The lethargy that was pressing down on his body and his mind prevented it.

He may have wished for the absence of her touch, but when it came, it was a shock that pulled him partially out of the haze that surrounded him. Only then did he feel the hard metal against his back, felt the cool, salty ocean breeze as it ruffled his hair. His eyes focused, and he found that Max had leaned him up against the side of a car. He turned his head to the right and found her inside the car, digging wires out from under the steering column. Which was weird, because she'd had a van, right?

"Why are you stealing a car?" Alec asked. His worn out mind was slow on the uptake, so he didn't bother to try to figure it out. He just asked.

Max turned her head to take a peek at him. He looked so puzzled and so tired, she felt her heart break just a little bit. As she wrapped the two wires she needed together, the engine roared to life. She got out and stood in front of him, looking up into a face that, even though it was covered with a full growth of beard, looked heart-wrenchingly young.

"Borrowing," Max said, her voice still a sexy rasp. "We're borrowing the car. We'll give it back. We gotta go up to San Luis Obispo to get to a hospital. Not really looking to walk."

Alec's brow creased as he pondered this. "What happened to the van?" His words came out slowly. He was too tired to talk at a normal pace.

Max explained as she maneuvered him around the car and into the passenger seat. "I had Logan take it. Sent him and Original Cindy back to Seattle. He was already fighting me on leaving, and I didn't want to give him any more reason to delay."

Alec frowned, but even that was half-hearted. His reactions were starting to worry her. He seemed to have cut himself off again, almost like he had locked most of himself away and was experiencing only part of what was going on around him.

As she threw the car into gear and peeled out, she rolled down her window, grateful for the fresh air. They had been cooped up too long in that apartment. Maybe the change of scenery on the drive would help her come up with some idea of how to help Alec.

* * *

Max paced nervously in front of Alec as he sat in a chair in the hospital's waiting room. Everyone else in the room seemed to sense her agitation and gave them a wide berth. Alec's eyes were focused on a spot on the floor, a few feet in front of him. She'd had to handle all of the questions when they checked in, as he'd withdrawn into his shell. As they waited, her worry increased until she'd taken to pacing.

"You gotta snap out of this, Alec," she said quietly, which was hard to do given the state of her voice. "If you keep acting like this, the docs'll ask too many questions. Its going to be hard enough to explain your injury, since the scars still haven't faded on your wrists."

The wounds from his prior escape attempts hadn't healed completely, and they were definitely unusual. If they made him take of his shirts, they were screwed. Not only was there the problem of the barcode, but the pattern of scars on his chest and back would have them calling the cops for sure. She glanced down at him, and for all the reaction he gave, she might as well have been talking to the wall behind him. She ran her hands through her hair and made a frustrated noise. Maybe this had been a mistake.

When a nurse came to the edge of the room and called for Alec Baker (the fake name she had given the receptionist), she knelt in front of him, then grabbed both of his biceps and squeezed hard to get his attention.

"Alec!" she whispered harshly. He jerked, blinked several times, then finally looked at her, but he couldn't seem to get his eyes to stay focused. Max's face held a look of concerned worry. "Can you handle this?"

"Yeah," he replied in a distracted tone, as if too occupied with his inner thoughts. Max rolled her eyes heavenward, seeking a little divine intervention, if there was such a thing. She dragged him up out of chair and pulled him down the hall after the nurse. He was pliant. Just putting one foot in front of the other, not really paying attention. If she hadn't been steering him, he probably would've walked into a wall.

The nurse led them behind a curtain, and then indicated Alec should hop up on the bed. Thankfully, she turned her back to write something on his chart, so Max was able to get Alec situated on the bed without the nurse seeing it.

The nurse did the nurse thing, taking his pulse and blood pressure and temperature. Max watched her put the thermometer in his mouth, then froze as a wave of panic went through her. His temperature. _Shit!_

"Hmmm..." the nurse said, frowning. "Running a bit of a fever there, Mr. Baker."

"Uh, yeah," Max said quickly, "he's had this bug all week. We both have. I'm pretty much over it, 'cept for the whole scratchy voice thing. No big deal. He usually runs a little hot, anyway." The nurse turned to look at her, and Max plastered a toothy smile on her face.

The nurse nodded and made a note on Alec's chart. Fortunately, it was the middle of the night and the nurse wasn't up to questioning Max's story. "I'll have the doctor take a look. Now, follow me and we'll get that hand x-rayed."

Max kept a hand on Alec to guide him, trying to keep it casual. Hopefully, anyone that saw them would think that she was just an overly concerned girlfriend. They went through the process of getting his hand x-rayed without a hitch, then found themselves back behind the same curtain, waiting for the doctor.

Once the nurse left them, Max immediately started pacing again. This time she added chewing on her thumbnail and muttering to her compulsion.

"Maybe they'll think you're in shock or something. Yeah, like from the pain. Or maybe they'll think it's from your 'fever.' Yeah, that could be it. You're all wacked out on cold medicine, and that's why you're completely zoned." Max stopped her pacing for a second to look at him, but he was spacing again. "Jesus Christ!" she hissed, putting a hand to her now aching forehead.

The doctor chose that moment to come behind the curtain, a copy of Alec's x-rays in his hands and the nurse trailing behind him. Max turned and muttered _finally _under her breath and sat down on the bed beside Alec. The sooner this was over, the better. If she hadn't been so worried about crippling him, she would have never risked bringing him out in public so soon.

The doctor, a man with graying hair who appeared to be in his late forties, smiled as he sat down on a stool in front of Alec. "That's a pretty nasty break you got there, son." The doctor picked up the x-ray and held it up to the light.

When Alec didn't respond to the doctor, Max elbowed him sharply in the side. "Yeah," he blurted out, then fell silent again. Max ground her teeth together. If this was all the cooperation he could manage, it was going to be a difficult night. At this rate, she might have to end up cracking a few heads together and dragging Alec out of there, if they started to ask too many questions about Alec's state. If the threatened to admit him, she was gonna throw down, and to hell with the consequences.

The doctor took Alec's broken hand carefully in his, and Max silently prayed that the guy would be too tired or too uncaring to notice Alec's wrists. But apparently, if there was anyone up there, He wasn't listening, because she saw the doctor's brows come together in puzzlement when he slid Alec's shirt up his arm and saw the faded scars on his wrist. Max held her breath when the man reached over and looked at Alec's right hand, to find a matching set of scars.

"Mind telling me how you broke it?" the doctor asked casually, but Max could hear an undertone of suspicion in his voice. _Shit! Shit! Shit!_

"Well, you see, doctor…ummm…" Max began, starting to stammer as the explanation she had come up with on the drive to the hospital completely flew out of her head.

"I like it rough."

Both Max, the doctor, and the nurse turned their heads at the sound of Alec's voice as he finally chose to speak, blurting out those four words.

"Huh?" Max and the doctor said in unison.

Max's eyes widened as she saw Alec's eyes completely focus and a smirk lit his face, and, dear God, there was actually a devilish look in his eyes, the look he used to always have when he was about to get into trouble. Max felt her heart stutter and then come to a stop.

Alec leaned toward the doctor and lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Can't blame guy for liking a little kink now and then, huh, Doc?"

Max's mouth fell open, and she coughed a little as her heart stuttered to life again. She was completely shocked. He looked and sounded exactly like he used to. _Exactly_. Right down to the facial expressions and the intonation of his voice. It made her heart ache with an incredible yearning.

She practically fell off the bed when Alec gave her a companionable bump with his shoulder. "Guess we got a little too overzealous this time, huh, Maxie?" he said lightly, and he waggled his eyebrows at her.

Max felt her face flush, and she started unconsciously fiddling with the hem of her jacket. Her mind was busy with images of what it would be like to get overzealous with Alec.

Max stared at Alec, dazed and unable to think of an appropriate response, utterly shocked by his transformation, until she felt a sharp pinch on her hip. Alec had pinched her! He had actually pinched her to goad her into a response! She had to stop herself from launching an automatic reaction to this assault, which would have been to slap him on the back of his head.

"Ahem, yeah, uh, we'll, ummm, we'll be more careful next time," she managed to get out. When the doctor looked down to Alec's hand again, Max turned her head and glared at him, but he refused to look at her.

Alec chatted animatedly with the doctor and nurse while they worked on him, putting them at ease with his natural charm, making them completely buy into his bullshit story. Max felt like she would never be able to get her jaw off the floor. It was like those eight months of absence had never happened, like that horrible night between them so long ago hadn't happened. Part of her couldn't help but allow her heart to leap, to see him like that again. But she wasn't stupid. She knew it was too good to be true. You couldn't just flip a switch and be all right again. It was just not possible.

It was an act. She knew it was an act, that it could be nothing but, but the part of her that wanted to believe it wasn't needed proof. She moved off the bed to stand beside him, positioning herself so that she could see his face. It was subtle, but she could see the signs of strain there. There were small beads of sweat on his brow and a tightening around the eyes that belied his light tone. Alec was doing all he could to maintain this façade for the hospital staff, but she feared he was coming to the end of his rope.

While the doctor and nurse were occupied with wrapping his cast--they seemed to be taking forever--Alec's eyes flicked up to hers. The jovial look transformed into a frantic plea, and it was as if she could hear his thoughts. _Help me, Maxie. I can't hold on much longer._

"Is this gonna take much longer?" Max blurted out, which came out sounding harsher than she intended because of her damaged throat. "'Cause we're both really beat, and we gotta get up early for work tomorrow."

The doctor looked up at her, disapproval on his face. "Young lady, this will take as long as it takes. You can't rush this kind of thing. If it's not done correctly the first time, he could need surgery to repair the damage."

Max nodded, then tried to look like she was contrite. Then she began pelting them with questions. _How long would it take to heal? Should he keep it elevated? What kind of painkillers should he take? _Anything that would take their attention off Alec and keep it on her.

When the doctor finished, he stared at them both with a reproachful look. "I don't think I have to explain to you kids about the dangers of experimental sex. I'm hoping this incident will serve as a lesson to you both."

Max grabbed Alec's arm to pull him off of the bed, then wrapped an arm around him and squeezed. "Sure thing, Doctor. We've definitely learned our lesson. We'll stick to straight up missionary position for a least a month." After she said it--in her husky, damaged voice--Max clamped her mouth shut. She could not believe she had actually said that. It was like she was channeling Alec--or at least the old Alec, anyway. Alec noticed it too, because he turned his head slowly and looked at her as if suddenly a complete stranger was standing next to him.

She gave the doctor a sheepish smile and accepted the prescription of Hydrocodone he wrote for the pain--which would have pretty much no affect on his transgenic metabolism, but she took it anyway. Alec was starting to lean heavily on her, and she pushed against him with her side to keep him upright, all the while trying to make it look that she was just being cozy with her boyfriend.

"Keep an eye on that fever," the doctor added. "If it continues, make sure he gets an appointment with his personal physician."

"Will do," Max said in her raspy voice. _Though his last personal physician is probably hiding out in Canada or wherever with all the rest of the Manticore docs_, she thought. She gave the doctor a big smile and said, "Don't worry. I'll take good care of him."

The doctor left, but the nurse stayed to hand them paperwork and explain what they needed to do to check out. Max asked her a bunch of confusing questions, playing the stupid girlfriend thing to the hilt. She got the nurse so irritated and distracted that she was able to snag Alec's chart from the nurse's clipboard, which the woman had set down for a second as she turned and used her arms to direct Max to where she needed to check out. Max tucked the chart into her waistband at the small of her back, then put a look of dawning comprehension on her face.

"Oh, now I get it. Gee, thanks. I was really confused there for a minute."

Max kept her eyes wide and innocent. Her transgenic hearing picked up the sound of the nurse grinding her teeth beneath a forced smile.

"Well, I'm glad we have everything sorted out now. You can take that prescription to the hospital's pharmacy to get it filled. Take care now." With that, the nurse turned on her heel and walked briskly away, the soles of her ugly white nurse shoes squeaking softly as she got as far away from Max as quickly as she could.

Max didn't even have time to smirk at the nurse's retreating back. As soon as the nurse was out sight, Alec seemed to collapse in on himself, leaning hard back against the edge of the bed. It had taken all of his remaining energy to act the part of normal, and now he had nothing left. But he knew that they were not out of the woods yet. He needed to hold on just a little longer. He pushed himself upright, feeling Max's steadying hand on his arm. He took a step forward, but suddenly, his vision darkened and the room started to tilt to the right.

"Shit!" Max hissed, grabbing Alec around the chest as he began to list to the side. "Come on, Alec, don't give up on me now! We're almost out of here!"

Alec's eyes managed to focus on her and he gave her a barely perceptible nod. Max reached up and brushed his hair out of his eyes, then found she couldn't stop herself and ran her hand around until it rested over his barcode. Whether it was to comfort him, or to comfort herself, she wasn't sure.

"Hold on, Alec," she whispered. "Just hold on."

* * *

It took Max a half an hour to get Alec out of the hospital and out to the car. She had stopped several times to let Alec rest, but every time she stopped, she was afraid she wouldn't be able to get him going again. He was running on empty, and he looked like he could pass out at any minute.

When she finally managed to lower him into the passenger seat of the car, she heaved a sigh of relief. They'd made it out, without any major incident. Alec had managed to pull himself together long enough to past muster in the normal world. It gave her hope.

Max moved around to the driver's side and got in. Once behind the wheel, she paused for a moment to look at Alec. He had let his head fall back against the seat's headrest, and he had closed his eyes, but she could tell from the tension in his body that he was not asleep. He was like a taught rubber band, strung so tight that he could snap at any moment. She frowned, then reached under the steering column to twist the appropriate wires together to start the car. She threw the vehicle in gear and whipped out of the parking spot. The sooner they got home, the better.

As they left the parking lot, Alec slowly slid to the side and let his head rest against the window. Max tried not to overanalyze the act that increased the physical distance between them.

She began to talk to him, even though she was pretty sure he wasn't listening, because she couldn't stand the silence between them.

"So, the doc said four to six weeks for the cast. That's an ordinary's healing rate, of course. I figure, the way we heal, should be able to come off in a week, maybe ten days. You'll be good as new in no time."

Max had hoped for a little response, maybe just a hint of the Alec that he had been in front of the doctor. But there was nothing. The silence stretched between them for five minutes. Max was trying to think of something to say to him, but then she heard the steady rhythm of his breathing. She glanced over, and saw that he was no longer tense, but completely boneless, slumped against the passenger-side door. Fast asleep.

Max turned her focus back to the road in front of them. The sky was beginning to change color as dawn approached. She found herself breathing faster as a pressure built in her chest. It made her want to run, but from what, she didn't know. She hadn't had time to deal with the events of the past couple of hours, but now, in the silence of the car, those events demanded to be dealt with, and they pushed her into a panic.

She forced herself to breath evenly, forced her heart to slow its suddenly frantic pace. _You're all right, Max_, she told herself. _**He's**__ all right. You're gonna get through this, and everything will be fine. Then, maybe, once things are better, you can tell him how you feel. _

Max glanced over at him again, and saw the white cast standing out like a beacon in the dark interior of the car. Maybe his hand would be good as new in a few days, but Alec himself was another matter. The real Alec had finally broken through, but he still wasn't himself. Max wished she could snap her fingers and make him all better, but the real world didn't work that way. There was still a long road ahead of them.

As Max headed south, she stared at the highway in front of her, which was nearly deserted in the pre-dawn light.

The road ahead was long. Max was pretty sure it was going to be rough.

* * *

Alec's right arm was draped over her shoulders, and she was supporting most of his weight as they made their way up the stairs. She'd had to drag him out of the car and inside the building, and the trek was made worse by the fact that he started to resist her. He was no longer a rag doll, letting himself be led here and there. He was one hundred-eighty pounds of stubborn transgenic male. Every step they took up the three flights seemed to get harder. The closer they got to their destination, the more he held back.

Finally, after two an a half flights of increasing resistance, she'd had enough. She grabbed him by the front of his shirt and shoved him up against the wall. His eyes went wide and into complete focus, and his mouth dropped open slightly as he stared at her in shock.

He probably hadn't even realized what he was doing.

Hands fisted in his shirt, Max stared back. "Look, Alec. I get it. You've got issues with that apartment. And I know that it is my fault that you have issues. But we can't spend the rest of our lives in this fucking stairwell. Now, I swear to you, there will be no more handcuffs, no more drugs. If you want to leave, I won't stop you. But I'm asking you, _begging _you, _please_, let me help you."

There was a long pause, and she could see Alec processing what she had said. She was afraid for a moment that he would leave, that he would turn around and walk down those two and a half flights and never come back. But then she saw him blink slowly, and his eyes transformed, holding such an earnest look that she melted inside.

"You promise?" he asked, and there was a tremor in his voice.

She smiled sadly and loosened her grip on him, knowing that it was her actions that put that tremor in his voice. "I promise," she said, her voice breaking on the words.

* * *

The door to the apartment burst inward as Max gave it a firm kick to open it. She maneuvered Alec inside, once again supporting his weight. Once Alec had stopped resisting her, his energy had deserted him and he had struggled up the remaining half flight of stairs.

Once they got inside the apartment and she had shoved the door shut, he startled her by shrugging her off. She stood just inside the door, arms hanging uselessly at her sides, as she watched him shuffle across the room and then collapse on the couch. He let his head fall backward until he was staring at the ceiling. He didn't say a word.

Max shifted indecisively for a moment, then slowly moved toward the couch, giving him the time to protest if he didn't want her there. She sat gently down beside him, as close as she could get without touching him. Though it hurt to acknowledge the fact, she knew that he didn't like it when she touched him.

She drew up her legs, tucked them under her, and waited.

Alec sensed Max cross the room, and felt the weight of the couch shift as she sat down beside him. He didn't know what to do about her. Part of him wanted to leave. She'd said she wouldn't stop him this time, and there was part of him that wanted to be as far away from her as possible. But another part of him knew that he was messed up, _really_ messed up, and he was afraid that he wouldn't be able to handle it on his own.

And worst of all, he was afraid to be alone.

He could feel her watching him, probably analyzing his every muscle twitch. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her open her mouth several times to speak, then close it again without saying a word. He could tell that she wasn't sure what to say, didn't know where to begin.

Well, he would solve that little problem for her. Something was weighing heavily on his mind. Something that, for some reason, stood out above all the other things weighing him down.

"Tell me about Ben," he asked quietly, still staring at the ceiling.

Max started, taken aback. She had hoped that Alec would have, if not accepted, understood what she had done. She thought he had, but maybe that had just been wishful thinking on her part. Maybe he condemned her as much as Logan did. "Alec," she began hesitantly, "what I did…"

Alec closed his eyes tight and cut her off before she could continue that painful tale. "No. Before he…." He trailed off, trying to think of how to word it. _Before he started killing people? Before he went batshit crazy, like I did? Before you snapped his neck? _He sighed. It was easier _not _to say it. "… _before_," he said again, and left it at that, hoping she would understand.

Max propped her arm up on the back of the couch, then let her head fall to the side until it rested on the heel of her palm. Her eyes took on a faraway look as she remembered the boy Ben had once been.

"When we were kids, back at Manticore, he always wanted answers for everything. You know? Why we were there, what was outside. So he would make up these fantastic stories to explain things. Somehow it made us feel...loved. Like we weren't all alone."

"What went wrong?" Alec whispered. He desperately wanted to understand the man that had been his twin. Maybe what had happened to him would make more sense if he understood what had happened to Ben.

"After we escaped," Max said slowly, "it was like there were too many things in this world he didn't have answers for."

Max's memory was haunted by images of Ben when they were younger, leading them on a hunt through the woods. Then, young Ben transformed into a man that shared Alec's face. His words echoed through her mind._ We never should've left. Everything made sense there. _Max's brows furrowed and she frowned. "I don't know. He just...lost it."

Silence stretched between them as they both pondered Max's words. When Alec spoke again, his voice sounded tired, drained.

"Manticore spent six months turning my brain inside out. They never told me what he did. But I heard them talking about him, how he went crazy. I didn't really care, though. All I knew was that I was in Hell, and it was his fault. Everything they did to me was because of him. 493. I hated him for that."

Max bit her lip. She felt torn. There was this urge to defend Ben, the boy she had grown up with that had become part of her self-made family. But Alec was finally talking to her, finally opening up about Manticore and what happened during those six months in Psy Ops. She kept quiet and let him speak.

"All that time," Alec continued, "they were trying to make sure I wasn't like my brother. But I guess they were wrong."

At his last words, Max forgot about what she wanted to know. There was such overwhelming anguish in his voice, she couldn't let him continue. They would have to deal with what he was going through now before they could get to the root of what was causing it.

"Alec…" Max took a deep breath, trying to figure out how to say it in a way that wouldn't hurt him, "what you did, it was wrong. But those guys in the ring, they weren't innocents. They would have killed you if given half a chance. They were bad men, Alec. If it hadn't been you, it would have been someone else in that ring. And I bet that person would be dead."

"But I killed them, Max," Alec said, his voice a horrified whisper.

"Did you enjoy it?"

Alec finally dropped his head, not looking at her but staring at the floor. "No. I didn't enjoy it. I didn't feel anything. Somehow, I think that's worse."

He fell silent again. Max could see he was thinking over everything he had done. He may not have felt anything at the time, but he was feeling it now. His face was filled with guilt and remorse, and just when she was ready to intervene, the look was gone. He flipped some internal switch and shut down his emotions. She noticed that he'd been doing it since the moment he'd finally broken through. Any time his feelings threatened to overtake him, he shoved them aside. His face once again became expressionless, and it made her want to grab him and shake him, make those emotions come back to the surface. At the same time, she was afraid that if she pushed him too hard, he would run.

It scared her. The thought that he would run, and that she would never see him again. But it also scared her that he was still hiding parts of himself. She feared that he would never get better until he dealt with those emotions, but how could she ask him to do that when he was in so much pain?

The silence became almost unbearable, until finally he raised his head and turned it to look at her. "That night, after you busted me out…"

He faltered and looked away again, then began to pick at the edge of his cast. He knew they needed to talk about that night, but he wasn't sure if he was ready. Because if they talked about that night, then he would have to talk about what had happened before. At Manticore.

He tried to make himself continue, but found he couldn't, and it made him frown. Not only was he completely screwed in the head, he was a fucking coward, too. _Some super soldier you are, Alec._

Max held her breath and watched Alec fidget, unable to continue. She understood his hesitance. This was the moment she had been afraid of, and, at the same time, desperate for. She knew they would have to talk about that night, sooner or later. But when she was honest with herself, she had to admit that she had hoped it would be later. She was so ashamed of how she had acted that night. She wasn't sure if she was ready to deal with it herself.

Max hung her head. This time, she was the one that was unable to look at him. Her voice was hoarse, not only from the damage done by Alec's grip, but from the emotion behind her words. "I made the worst mistake of my life that night. I'm sorry I didn't trust you."

Alec shook his head. "Listen, Max, I'm not looking for…"

"No, you listen! I need to say this, all right!" Max interrupted, straining as her voice fought her. She took a deep breath and counted to ten, willing herself to calm down. Yelling at him was probably not the best thing to do right now. When she had herself under control, she continued.

"When Logan was in the hospital and you didn't show, I was so angry. I thought you'd let me down, that you didn't care. I wasn't thinking. I mean, Logan was dying and it was all my fault and I was just so messed up at the time, I didn't think of anything except the fact that you weren't there for me. I think I was more angry at myself, because I let myself start to depend on you, to count on you to be there, to think that maybe you weren't the bad guy I always made you out to be. I let that anger take over, because everything else when it came to you was starting to get so mixed up. I'd let myself trust you, Alec, and I thought that you betrayed that trust, when really it was the other way around. It wasn't you, it was _me_."

Max's voice wavered, and she found herself blinking back tears. "There hasn't been a moment in the past eight months when I didn't wish that I could relive that night and take it all back."

They both fell silent, staring at each other. This time, neither transgenic looked away.

Alec let his head loll backwards against the couch, but he didn't break eye contact. Maybe it was the look in her eyes, the utter honesty he saw there, that stirred him to return it in kind.

"I let myself care so much what you thought of me. I tried so hard to be what I thought you wanted me to be. Got a job, only stole from the bad guys, had your back when you needed me, but nothing was ever good enough. No matter how hard I tried, you never saw _me_, you saw Manticore."

Max bit her lip. His words hurt because, for the most part, they were true. She had wronged him in so many ways, and it went far beyond that one horrible night. What hurt even worse was knowing how much she had hurt the man that she had fallen in love with. How could she ever forgive herself for the way she had treated him? How could _he _ever forgive her? She was so afraid that her actions would stand between them forever.

"I think…" she began, focusing hard to keep her voice steady, "it made it easier, somehow, to only see Manticore. If I only saw Manticore, then I wouldn't see how you looked like Ben, and I couldn't be reminded…" She had to swallow around the lump in her throat before she could continue, and she lowered her head, no longer able to look him in the eye. "...reminded of what I had done."

"I'm sorry." He knew that it had to be hard for her, having him around. Some guy with Ben's face, making her think about things she would rather forget.

Max jerked her head back up to look at him, startled. His tone was sincere, and his eyes confirmed that sincerity. She was taken aback. "What have you got to be sorry about? You can't help the way you look, and you had nothing to do with what I did. I'm the one that has the stupid hang ups… probably why I've been such a bitch to you sometimes."

She said the last with a lighter tone. She'd left herself wide open with that comment, almost egging him on to give her some sort of smart ass comeback. She would have gotten down on her hands and knees at this point and begged him for a smart ass comeback, some sign of the old Alec, something real and not just an act put on for show.

Alec's lips quirked just a little, hinting at a smile but never quite getting there. "Maybe," he replied, with resignation in his voice.

Then he slowly got up. Max's head turned to follow him as he pushed his tired body off the couch, as he dragged his feet the across the room to the bedroom. Her mouth fell open as she watched him cross into the bedroom, then shut the door behind him without ever glancing back.

She heard the click of the simple push-button lock on the bedroom door. The sound stabbed through her, a sharp pain right to her heart.

It was symbolic, the locking of that door. It wasn't meant to keep her out. They both knew that she could get through that door in point-two seconds flat if she wanted. It was meant to send her a message. _Don't want you. Don't need you. Stay away_.

Max curled herself into a ball on the couch and wrapped her arms around her legs. Her head fell forward and came to rest on her knees. Before it came to rest, she turned it so she could still see the bedroom door. She couldn't take her eyes from that door, and everything that it meant.

Forgiveness wouldn't be coming anytime soon.

She heard the squeal of the springs as he laid down on the bed, then silence. She just stared at shut door, imagining him behind it. She wanted to go to him, wrap her arms around him, tell him that everything was going to be all right. But she couldn't. He didn't want that. He had closed the door and locked it. She had ignored what he wanted too many times since she had found him again. She wouldn't ignore his simple request for some privacy.

But it hurt. That closed door hurt more than his fingers wrapped around her neck, more than when he had threatened her life, more than eight long months of absence. That door represented her biggest worry, what she had been afraid would happen.

He was shutting her out.

* * *

A/N: For those of you who requested Max and Alec confront what happened between them the night he transformed into Dark Alec, this chapter was for you. It may not completely satisfy you, as Alec clammed up pretty quickly, but he really isn't ready to talk about it yet. Don't worry. It's bound to come up again.

Please review. I crave feedback. The muse craves feedback. Must keep the muse happy.


	12. Reach Out and Touch Someone

Gone

By Inzane

Disclaimer: Still not owning it. Still not making any money from it. Which sucks, but it's better than getting sued.

Summary: How much abuse can a guy take before he snaps? Events in Hello, Goodbye take a different turn. AU from that point.

A/N: I would like to thank everyone who has reviewed this story and offered me invaluable feedback. I have made a lot of improvements to my storyline due to suggestions from the readers. You all have helped to keep me on the right track. So, again, my deepest thanks.

I would have had this chapter out there sooner, but I was down and out with a stomach virus for about four days. And, might I add, yuck.

Warning: I just wanted to remind everyone who is reading this via alerts that the rating was changed to M. Ahem… just saying.

* * *

Chapter 12: Reach Out and Touch Someone 

Max fell asleep, sitting on the couch, arms wrapped around her legs and head still facing the closed door of the bedroom. She had stared at it for an hour--hoping that maybe he would come out, or at least unlock the door, maybe open it a crack--before she was overcome with fatigue from the complete lack of sleep the night before.

When she awoke, it was with the uncomfortable jerk that accompanies falling asleep in an awkward position. She lifted her head from where it had rested on her knees, groaning slightly as the muscles in her neck protested. She automatically reached up to rub the sore muscles, eyes scrunching up against the mild annoyance of pain. Then the haze of sleep cleared from her brain and she sat bolt upright, eyes immediately locking on the bedroom door.

It was closed. Still.

Dammit.

Max turned her head, wincing as stiff muscles protested, to look out the window of the apartment. Sun streamed in through the dingy glass, strong and bright. She must have been asleep for four or five hours.

She could see a glimpse of brilliant blue sky beyond the glass, with the occasional puffy cloud floating by. It was if the weather itself had turned against her, mocking her. The beauty of the day taunted her with its stark contrast to the dark storm cloud that had settled over her life.

If a goddamn bird settled on that windowsill and started chirping merrily, she was going to kill it.

Max let her head fall back against the couch. As she stared at the ceiling, mirroring the same position Alec had been in when they had first returned from the hospital, she sighed. She couldn't let herself fall victim to depression. If she did that, she wouldn't be able to help Alec. She had to try to stay positive. He wasn't himself yet. She wouldn't allow herself to take what he did personally. To take that closed door personally.

That's what she told herself, anyway.

She shoved herself off of the couch and shuffled into the bathroom, grabbing fresh clothes along the way. She made a mental note to get to a Laundromat soon, or both she and Alec were gonna start smelling pretty ripe.

She closed the bathroom door, then told herself that she wasn't being petty when she pushed in the button lock. She turned on the shower, then slowly stripped off her clothes, not really seeing, eyes glazing as her thoughts turned inward. She clenched her teeth around yet another sigh that wanted to escape her lips, then closed her eyes and stepped under the hot spray.

She turned her back against the spray, letting her hair fall over her shoulders so that her sore neck was fully exposed to the hot water. She groaned softly in pleasure at the liquid heat loosened her tight muscles. As she began to relax, her mind drifted. And as there was only one person who had been on her thoughts over the past week--more like the past eight months--it was inevitable the direction those drifting thoughts would lead.

He was there, on the other side of that thin wall. So close, yet he might as well have been miles away for all the good it did her. She couldn't reach him. She didn't kid herself into thinking that she played any part in bringing him back as far as he had come. He had done that much himself. She was just along for the ride.

Alec didn't want to be reached. No. That wasn't quite it. Not exactly. He didn't want _her _to reach him.

He didn't want her.

The simple truth was that she had fallen in love with a man that did not love her back. He didn't even know that she loved him. And she couldn't tell him.

The rift between them was wide and deep, and she had no idea had to bridge that gulf. How could she help him, much let repair the rift between them, if he wouldn't talk to her? She wanted to bust through that door and make him talk to her, force him to deal with this shit between them. But if she did that, he would never trust her again. She needed that trust. She had already betrayed it once. She only hoped that, with time, she could earn it back.

_God, this train of thought is fucking depressing_, she thought, and tried to force her mind to a more pleasant topic. It could have been the hot water that heated her blood, or the slick feel of the soap as it slid smoothly across her bare skin, that caused her mind to latch on to a much more pleasant topic. A dangerous, but definitely more pleasant topic.

He was probably still sleeping on the bed. Her breath quickened as her mind began to fill in images of him on that bed: lying on his back, sprawled out and taking up the whole bed; on his side, curled up slightly, like a cat; on his stomach, on leg drawn up and his head resting on his arm. The images of Alec sleeping where interrupted by a memory: Alec, blue towel slung low on his hips, chest bare, muscles glistening with water from the shower. Her heart sped faster as the images of Alec sleeping once again flashed through her mind, but this time, there was bare skin and rippling muscles, as her mind imagined Alec slept in the nude.

The soap slipped out of her hand to land with a thunk at the bottom of the tub.

She reached up to push her wet hair out of her eyes, then let her head fall backwards. She could feel each individual droplet of water as it trailed down her skin. Her arms ran over the back of her head, down her neck, then came around and trailed down further until her fingertips grazed lightly past her breasts, her nipples now hard pebbles. Her hands slid slowly down her torso, caressing. Her breaths were fast and shallow now, and she imagined they were _his _hands, as they slid lower, lower...

Max spun around and twisted the handle for the hot water hard until it cut off completely, She found herself panting as a blast of cold water rained down to cool her suddenly super heated blood. She stood there, under the stinging needles of cold, letting the punishing water wash away the fantasy that she didn't dare indulge in. Not with Alec in the next room, separated only by that thin wall.

So close, yet so far away.

Once she had herself under some semblance of control, she turned the water off and stepped out of the shower, shivering. As she toweled off, she took a moment to dwell on how complicated life had become. Not only was she battling to save Alec's soul, but now she would also have to constantly fight her own feelings so she wouldn't scare him away. She would have to hide what she felt to protect the man she loved. The man that didn't love her back. The man she shouldn't have even let herself fall in love with in the first place.

Max dropped the towel to the floor and scowled at her reflection in the mirror. In her short twenty years of life, she had come to one profound realization.

Love sucked.

* * *

When Max exited the bathroom, she tried hard to not look at that door, the door she knew would still be closed. But she couldn't stop herself from looking, and couldn't stop her heart from sinking at the sight of it, even though she had known it was what she would see. 

She made herself coffee, hoping that the smell of it might tempt him from the bedroom. When that didn't work, she made what she loosely called an omelet but ended up being more like scrambled eggs with cheese in it. She made extra, in case his transgenic appetite might force him from the room, but still nothing. She sat at the small table and ate her eggs with her chin propped on her hand and a frown on her face, purposely keeping her back to the door so she wouldn't look.

She waited. Waited for four hours, milling about the apartment, trying to keep herself distracted, and still the door remained closed. She couldn't even hear him in there. Nothing but complete silence came from that room.

After another hour, she couldn't take it anymore. The silence was killing her. She needed to talk to _someone_.

Max walked over to her bag and dug in a side pocket, removing the cell phone from where she had stashed it. She stared at the phone for a minute, then flipped it open. It still had two bars left on the battery. She'd have to charge it soon.

She had set the phone on vibrate when Logan had given it to her to use, silencing the ringtone so it wouldn't disturb Alec. Six days ago, she silenced the vibrate feature as well, so it would quit disturbing _her_. The reason why she had done this was right there on the digital display.

28 missed calls.

Max rolled her eyes upward. She didn't even need to look at the list of calls to know who had been doing the calling, but she did it anyway. Logan.

Max hesitated for a moment, staring at the closed door apprehensively. She didn't particularly _want _to make the call that she knew she had to make. And she didn't particularly want Alec to overhear her when she made it. But she also didn't feel comfortable leaving him alone.

She quietly stalked over to the bedroom door, then stood silently and _listened_. Not how an ordinary listened, but how a transgenic listened, shutting out all other senses but sound, so that nothing in the world existed but the sounds around her.

She felt a wave of relief at the sound of Alec's steady breathing. It was even and slow. She focused until no sounds remained except the sound of his breathing. He was still in the room, still sleeping on that bed. She didn't know what she had expected to hear. Maybe she had feared that she wouldn't hear anything, that he had managed to squeeze out the small bedroom window, scaled down the building, and run away from her. At that moment, the sound of his breathing was the sweetest sound she had ever heard.

He slept peacefully, and she wouldn't risk waking him. And even though he was asleep, she wouldn't risk leaving him either. So she compromised.

She left the apartment, opening the sticking front door as quietly as she could. She left the door wide open, then walked down to the other end of the hall. From there, she could keep an eye on the apartment door, pick up any loud noises from inside, but at the same time have some privacy.

She began pacing as she dialed, before the call even connected. Might as well get this first call out of the way. Her thumb hesitated a second over the button that would connect the call. She took a deep, bracing breath--_Just do it, Max_--then pushed the button.

She almost wished that he wasn't home.

_Cale._

Max jerked at the sound of his voice. He sounded kind of different. It was the same soft and mellow tone he always had, but there was a slight edge to it, a tension that wasn't there before. She knew she played a part in putting that tension there.

Her face scrunched up as she frantically tried to think of the right words to say. She knew Logan was still hung up on her. Her realization and acceptance of her feelings for Alec had also made her realize a few other things as well, things that she had steadfastly ignored while preoccupied with the search for him. So how did you talk to a guy who was still in love with you about the guy you were currently in love with? Awkward didn't even begin to cover it.

_Hello?_

"Hey, Logan," Max managed to blurt out finally. There was a long pause, when she tried to think of something else to say. Nothing came to her, so she added, unnecessarily, "It's me."

_Max?! _There was a clattering noise in the background. She imagined Logan had been sitting in front of his computer, as expected, and had bolted upright, sending his chair skittering off behind him. She heard him suck in a deep breath before he continued.

_Where are you? Are you all right?! Why haven't you returned any of my calls?! Did he hurt you? Because if he hurt you, I swear..._

"Calm down, Logan," Max interrupted. "I'm fine. We're _both _fine. We're still at the apartment in Pismo." She didn't want him starting in on Alec. If they started arguing, she'd never find out what she needed to know.

_What's wrong with your voice? You sound different._

_Shit_. Max wacked herself lightly in the head with the phone. Her voice was already a lot better than it had been, but it would still probably not be back to normal until tomorrow. _Stupid_. She should have known Logan would pick up on it.

"Nothing. I'm fine. Guess it's a bad connection."

_Max, why haven't you returned any of my calls? Do you know how worried I've been about you? Do you even care that we've been climbing the walls back here, wondering if you're okay?_

Max stopped her pacing and leaned into the wall in front of her, smacking her forehead against it several times. Of course, he wouldn't ask about Alec. She realized now that Logan had, on some level, always realized the threat Alec had been to their relationship. It was funny, almost, that out of the three of them, Logan had been the only one to realize it. Her head shook slightly as she answered his question.

"You know why. I told you not to call me. I told you that I needed to focus on helping Alec, not on giving you the daily 411 on every little move I make. We're in a tight spot right now, and I can't have interruptions wreckin' the whole dealio."

_I don't think taking five minutes now and again to let your friends know that you are okay would wreck your whole __**dealio.**_

Max hissed through her teeth and pushed herself away from the wall, stance becoming rigid with defensive anger at having her own words thrown back in her face. "F_riends, _my ass! You mean I didn't call _you_! And don't you go using that condescending tone on me, Logan! I'm doing the best that I can here, and I don't need you second guessing me!" She had done enough second guessing herself. She didn't need it from anyone else.

Maybe he heard the slight edge of desperation in her tone, or the doubt in her voice, but he paused. The only sound Max heard was the sound of her own breathing, which had increased in her anger. She cursed herself silently. She hadn't wanted to get into a fight. She really needed to talk to him.

_I'm sorry, Max. I know this must be hard on you._

Max gave a short, brittle laugh. "Hard. Yeah, I guess you could call it that."

_I just wish that you would..._

"Don't," Max interrupted. "We are not gonna get into this again. I won't abandon him, Logan. Don't ask me to."

There was silence between them, and for a full thirty seconds, neither of them could think of anything to say. Then there was the distinct sound of a clearing throat on the other end of the line, followed by a forced cough.

_So, Max, um, why are you calling? You are okay, right? I mean, your not just saying your okay when your not, are you?_

Max could have worked up an anger over the fact that he didn't trust her to tell him the truth, but frankly, she couldn't, because she hadn't really _told _him the truth. She hadn't lied, but she had held things back, as she had always done with him. Righteous indignation was a little tough to maintain when the man had a point.

She was far from all right, and more than in just the physical sense. The emotional strain was getting to her. Constantly trying to repress her feelings for Alec was getting to her. Alec pushing her away was getting to her. But she couldn't tell him that. She wouldn't slap him in the face with her feelings for another man. As much as she was irritated with him at the moment, she didn't want to hurt him.

"Yeah. I'm good. Well, as good as can be expected. Honest. Just a little tired is all. Shark DNA giving me the usual trouble." When in doubt, blame the shark DNA. If she told him the truth, he would have been haulin' ass down to Cali before she could hang up the phone.

_Well, as long as you're all right… _There was a soft hum, as she suspected he was trying to think of something to say. _Are you sure you don't need any help? Because I could catch a flight..._

"No!" Max cut him off, then realized how her outburst must have sounded. She lowered her voice, then said again, "No. I'm handling it okay. It's just a touchy situation right now. And since you and Alec don't particularly like each other, I don't think it would be a good idea."

_Hmmm..._ Logan apparently didn't know how to respond to that nugget of truth.

Max cleared her throat, and was pleased to find that the act only mildly irritated her healing vocal chords. "Anyway, well, I called, see... I could, uh, kind of could use some intel. The kind Eyes Only could get me."

_Could be I could help you there._

Max turned her back to wall and leaned against it, then slowly let herself slide down until she was sitting on the floor. She smiled slightly. Honest, dependable Logan. Even with things so strained between them, he was still ready to help her out.

He was a good man. She wasn't sure, if there situations were reversed, that she would have done the same thing in his place. She just wasn't as noble, and she certainly knew how to hold a grudge. Alec had always taken the brunt of that difficult part of her personality.

She couldn't be what Logan needed, nor did she want to try anymore. She hoped that one day, he would come to accept that, because he deserved better.

Max squeezed the phone tighter as she tried to force her mind back on target. "I need to know if those certain bad guys are looking for Alec. Was wondering if you heard anything? Don't want any nasty surprises showing up on my doorstep, you know what I mean." And she especially didn't want to give Alec a reason to have to kill anyone else.

_Well, then I have good news for you. Eyes Only managed, through his contact on the inside, to spread a little rumor that their prize fighter 494 was recaptured by the government. Apparently, they sent a crack squad of commandos in to infiltrate the club and reclaim their property._

Max's half smile turned into a broad grin. _"_Crack squad of commandos, huh?_"_

_Yeah. Kind of figured what big guy trying to get made would want to tell his boss that a five-foot-six woman in evening wear had kicked his ass, you know?_ _So, anyway, the fight club has apparently decided to relocate, and they are currently keeping a low profile so as not to draw any undue attention from the government. You should be in the clear._

Max heaved a sigh of relief. "Well, that's one less thing to worry about." Among a billion other things.

There was another moment of awkward silence between them--they seemed to be having a lot of those all of the sudden.

_It's good to hear your voice, Max._

Max felt guilt well up in her chest at his tone. She could hear the emotion, the longing behind the words. It was her fault that he still had hope. After she had broken things off between them, after the incident with the virus, Alec had gone missing and she'd spent so much time with Logan that she must have sent him mixed signals. She'd been completely insensitive to his feelings, pretty much oblivious to them, and for that, she was sorry.

She didn't want to send him the wrong signals anymore, but she couldn't just tell him _Hey, sorry, I know you still got a thing for me, but I've fallen in love with Alec_. Especially over the phone. So she took the coward's way out.

She made a noncommittal humming noise in response to his comment, then winced as she began to tell the lie. "Damn. I gotta cut this short. Hear the landlord coming up the steps. Asshole probably thinks he can hose another hundred out of me. I gotta head him off at the pass."

_Wait, Max..._

"Sorry, gotta go." With that, she pulled the phone away from her ear and ended the call, telling herself that she was making a tactical retreat. _No chicken DNA here_.

Before he could call back, she immediately dialed another number. By the third ring, her leg began to bounce nervously. "Come on, pick up. Pick up. _Please_."

The sound of Original Cindy's irritated voice burst over the line.

_No, Sketchy, Original Cindy is not gon' cover yo' shift, so for the last goddamn time, you don't quit callin', a girl gon' hafta lay the smackdown on yo' lazy ass._

Max felt her muscles go to jelly in relief, and she collapsed back against the wall in a boneless heap. Original Cindy must've answered her cell phone without even looking at who was calling. OC getting all bent out of shape over shifts at Jam Pony made Max think longingly of the days before the incident, when the weight of a man's life didn't rest on her shoulders.

"Hey, Girlfriend," Max replied, and wasn't really that shocked that her voice wavered with emotion.

There was a little yelp on the other end of the line. _Christ, Max, is that you?!_

Max could hear both panic and relief in her best friend's voice. Just the sound of Cindy's voice made her feel a little better. "Yeah, it's me."

_Damn, boo, 's'good to hear you! Tell you straight, OC can't sleep at night, worrying 'bout you two. How is yo' boy, anyway? More his smartass self yet?_

Max smiled sadly. At least she could count on Cindy to care about Alec. But thinking about how to reply to her friend's question brought up the gamut of emotion that threatened to overrun her. Alec was _so _not himself, and he was shutting her out, and she had no idea how to help him.

"He uh..." Max began, but paused as her voice shook. She swallowed hard, then tried to keep her voice level. "He's not... he's... ... No," she finished simply, because her throat started to close up around her words, and she found herself blinking as her eyes began to burn.

_Shugga, you aiight?_

Max nodded her head, as if Cindy could somehow see her through the phone, immediately going for the automatic response to that question. But then her bottom lip started to tremble, and she bit it as she went from nodding yes to shaking her head no.

"Not really," she managed to get out around a throat constricted with emotion. She tried to continue, but was afraid that if she spoke at that moment, she would break down, and she couldn't afford that luxury.

OC waited for her to continue, but when she didn't, her friend's soothing voice sounded over the line.

_Come on, girl, you know you can talk to Original Cindy. __You'll feel better you let it out._

Max took a couple of shaky breaths, until the tightness in her throat had eased some. "It's hard, Cindy. Seeing him like this. I'm not sure how much more I can take."

_Hey, don't talk like that, Max. You the strongest person I know, an' Original Cindy ain't talking 'bout your jazzed up DNA. If anyone can get him through this, you can._

"Yeah, but... I don't know what to do, Cindy. Everything I do just seems to make things worse. He just... he's closed off. I can't get him to talk to me. Right now, I can't even get him to be in the same room with me. He's shutting me out, and I don't know what to do about it."

_Aiight. Lookit, boo. He's a man, right? The mens, they don't talk 'bout shit. They bottle it all up inside and ignore it, thinkin' it'll go 'way. You go trying to shake that bottle up, with all that pressure in there, might just explode in yo' face. Men need time to settle, let the pressure ease a bit, go flat, if you get me._ _He a man, and he gonna need time, Max. You jus' gotta play his game, wait this bitch out. _

There was a long pause, as OC gave her time to digest that bit of sage, if a little off the wall, wisdom. Only Original Cindy could compare men to a carbonated beverage and make it sound completely legitimate.

'_Sides, this Alec we talkin' 'bout here. Sooner or later, his natural instinct to run on at the mouth gon' rear its ugly head, then yo' be thinkin' fondly of these days of blessed silence._

A harsh laugh exploded from Max's lips, and she rolled her eyes upward as if seeking divine intervention. "Oh, God, I hope so." She reached up and ran a hand through her hair, then let it fall bonelessly back down to her side. "Thanks, 'Cin. I really needed that."

_Original Cindy be here to serve._

"Hey, thanks for not giving me a hard time. For not calling, I mean."

_Girl, I know you got things on yo' mind. Not every day you gotsta save some pretty boy super soldier from himself._ There was a pause, and Max could practically hear Cindy's teeth grinding as she tried to hold her tongue. But Original Cindy and tongue holding really didn't work well together, so the pause was very short. _You called Logan, didn't you? He give you shit?_

Max huffed and tried to sound unaffected. "'Lil bit. Maybe."

_That asshole! You jus' give Original Cindy the word, boo, and she will go over there and break him into teeny little pieces, then stuff what's left of him in a blender and hit puree._

Max laughed at the image of Original Cindy bitchslapping Logan. "No. It's cool. It didn't really bother me that much. Well, maybe a bit, but I'll get over it. No big."

_Aiight. But you change your mind, OC got your back._

"I can always count on you for that."

_So. You want tell me what's down wit' you and yo' boy?_

Max sat up a little straighter. "Nothing," she said a little too quickly. "Nothing's going on." And it was the truth, too. Nothing was going on between them. No matter how much she wanted the opposite, nothing was going on, and nothing would.

_Mmmhmmm. _Translation: bullshit.

"What?" Max replied, defensive. "You think I'd go and do something stupid like fall for him? 'Specially when he's like this? Be serious."

_Max_.

The command in OC's tone had Max curling in on herself, putting a hand to her forehead. "God, Cindy, I'm so stupid. I am such a fucking dumbass."

_Always been of the opinion that fallin' for any man be stupid, but I might be a little biased, there._

"He hates me."

_No matter what he said, Max, I'm sure he don't hate you, _Original Cindy said softly.

Max thought about the moment when he'd held her life in his hands, and had been unable to extinguish it. She took her hand from her forehead and slumped, and since no one was there to see her, pouted. "Maybe he doesn't hate me. But he certainly doesn't like me very much right now."

_Hmmm, let's see. You taser his ass, drag him bodily out of a building against his will, knock him unconscious, lock him up, and drug him. All for his own good, mind you, but still. _

"Broke his hand, too," Max muttered.

_What? You broke his hand?!_

"Well, not really. But it was sort of my fault it got broken." Before Cindy could ask any more questions about that painful topic, Max cut her off. "Long story. Don't make me go there."

_Uh huh. _There was another pause, as Cindy was mulling over whether or not she was going to press the issue.

_Okay. Let's just set that aside for now._

There was a reason Original Cindy was her best friend.

_Not to take his side or anything, 'cause you know I'd never flake out on a sista, but you gotta admit, the boy's got a right to have issues for a while. Don't worry, he'll get over it. Men got short memories. One night, they can pound each other in the face and then the next go out drinking together like nothin' ever happen._

"But what if he doesn't forgive me? I told him I wasn't gonna lock him up or drug him anymore. What if he just up and leaves me?" Max closed her eyes against the thought.

_Max, you could spend the rest'a yo' life wond'rin' what if, but it ain't gonna change anythin'. Might as well not worry 'bout it. _

"Easy thing to say. Not so easy to do."

_Just be there for him, Max. The rest will come in time._

Max raised her head, and her eyes stared straight ahead, unseeing. "What if it doesn't come?" she whispered, afraid to ask the question too loud since she already feared she knew the answer.

_Then I'll be there to get you through it, boo. You can count on that._

Max sucked in a hitching breath, then sniffed as tears threatened. She had already lost eight months with Alec. The thought that she might lose him again, for good, brought her perilously close to breaking down.

_He'll come around, Max. Wait and see._

Max swallowed hard around the lump in her throat. "I hope you're right."

* * *

Over a thousand miles away, Original Cindy closed her phone, reluctantly ending her call with Max. She glanced at her watch. She and Max had talked for over an hour, until Max's cell had threatened to go dead. After they had gone over the heavy issues, OC had given Max the lowdown on what was going on back in Seattle, giving her updates on their friends, a message from Joshua, anecdotes about Sketchy's crazy antics, anything that would keep Max's mind off her problems. She hoped the call had cheered Max up a bit, because it had certainly done the opposite for her. 

OC was now more worried than ever about Max. Her girl sounded depressed, and worse than that, scared. Max had finally admitted to herself that she felt something for Alec, and that admission came at the worse possible time. Now she had all of those feelings on top of everything else, and Original Cindy knew from personal experience that Max didn't do too well with the whole feelings thing.

There was nothing she could do for Max except be there when she needed to talk. It wasn't much, but it was all she had.

A wicked smile spread across her face.

Well, not quite _all_ she had.

She jumped up from the couch in their apartment and headed out the door. She planned to pay a little visit to Logan Cale.

She wouldn't smack him around. Max hadn't wanted her to do that, and she would honor that request. She wouldn't lay a finger on the man.

But she had no problem giving him a piece of her mind.

* * *

After ending her call with Original Cindy, Max sat in the hall for a while. She blanked her mind, purposely trying to think of nothing. She focused on a spot on the opposite wall, letting everything else slip away. But as much as she tried, she couldn't find peace. All of the worry, the pressure, it was a nagging buzz in the background. Still, she kept at it for a while. When she finally gave up, deciding that meditation was definitely not her thing, the shadows in the hall had lengthened, and the sky outside the hall's single window had turned pretty shades of pink and purple. 

Max picked herself up off the floor and slowly walked back down the hall to the apartment door. She stood in the threshold for a moment, head down, unable to go in and face that closed door. She didn't have to look to know it was still closed. She just knew.

Finally, she stepped inside and closed the door, bracing her back against it. She told herself that she wasn't a coward, and forced herself to raise her head. Her eyes went unerringly to that door. That goddamned closed door.

Max straightened up, squaring her shoulders, a look of grim determination on her face. She made herself walk across the room, focused on putting on foot in front of the other, until she stood in front of the door that separated her from Alec. She reached up and placed the flat of her palm against the door, then leaned in until her forehead touched the wood.

"Alec," she said quietly, keeping her voice low, the rasp in it mostly gone. She closed her eyes, but not in time to keep the single tear from rolling down her cheek. She wiped it away angrily. She was tired of feeling weak. She mentally steadied herself, then continued.

"I don't know if you're listening. I don't know if you even want to listen. But I'm gonna say it anyway. I'm not going anywhere. No matter how long it takes, no matter how long you stay in that room, I'll be here."

Max was quiet for a moment, listening for any response. A sigh, the rustling of sheets, _anything_. But he was silent. The only sound was the sound of his deep, even breathing. If he was awake, he was masking it well.

"You have every right not to trust me. Hell, the way I've always treated you, I probably don't even deserve it. But people can change." She laughed softly. "Even stubborn-ass bitches like me. I won't let you down again. I swear it."

Max paused, and when she spoke next, the words came out in an unsteady whisper. "Just… _please_… give me a second chance."

Max jerked slightly as she heard a sound. There was a rustling of sheets, accompanied by the creak of bedsprings as Alec shifted. It sounded like he might have rolled over on the bed. After that, there was silence once more.

Max's eyes were wide as she slowly slid down to end up sitting in a heap at the bottom of the door. Then she turned, bracing her back against the door. She blinked a couple of times, a blank look on her face as she tried to process the information. She didn't know what to make of that noise. Had he heard her? Had he rolled away from the sound of her voice, turning his back on her? Or had he rolled toward her, thinking about her on the other side of the door? Maybe it been a random movement made in sleep and he hadn't heard a damn word she said.

Max ran a hand over her face. She had to quit overanalyzing stuff. She was going to drive herself crazy.

She thought about getting up off of the floor, but couldn't bring herself to actually do it. Since she decided to stop overanalyzing, she didn't really bother with figuring out why. If she had, maybe she would have come to the conclusion that sitting there against that door was the closest she'd been to Alec since he locked himself behind it.

As the light faded from the room, her body began to feel heavy. She found herself drifting, and it was such a comfortable feeling that she let herself go.

She fell asleep, sitting against that door, and dreamed of the man behind it.

* * *

A/N: Okay, how many people did I fake out with that chapter title? Come on, how many of you were thinking that there was gonna be a little sexual healing for Alec in this chapter? You can admit it. (Or am I the only one that thought that about the chapter title? Note to self : get mind out of gutter.) 

Well, I'm off to take my boys to the beach. I promised that I wouldn't take my laptop with me, so the next chapter might be a little longer in coming. Feel free to overload my inbox with reviews while I am gone. I'm sure they will help motivate me to dive right in to the next chapter once I get back.


	13. Always All Right

Gone

By Inzane

Disclaimer: I do not own Dark Angel, nor have I made any money from this story.

Summary: How much abuse can a guy take before he snaps? Events in Hello, Goodbye take a different turn. AU from that point.

Warning: The usual stuff. If you've read this far, you know.

Ginormous chapter alert. If you're planning to read it on a fifteen-minute break, or before work or something, you might wanna rethink that. Or be a really fast reader. Your call.

* * *

Chapter 13: Always All Right

Max felt the world shift under her.

She should have been alarmed, but she wasn't. She should have been instantly alert, but instead she found herself sinking into warmth and comfort. Because, as her head fell back, she took in a deep, slow breath, and smelled _his _scent.

Alec.

Her mind did a double take, forcing her to wake. As she rose from the haze of sleep, her other senses came alive. She felt his strong arms holding her, felt his hard chest expand with breath as he cradled her against him. Heard the steady beat of his heart.

She was in his arms. She blinked slowly and pulled her head forward until it rested against his shoulder, reveling in the brief moment of contact that she knew would soon end.

"Alec," she said softly, then paused, unsure what to say next, how to deal with this complete one-eighty. Yesterday, he was shutting her out. Now, she was in his arms. Not that she was complaining, but it didn't make any sense. She raised her head to try to look at him. "What...?"

"Shhh..." Alec hushed her, as he carried her further into the bedroom. Max's heart began to pound as he lowered her to the bed. The bed seemed incredibly soft for some reason. Maybe it was because she had been sleeping on that shitty couch for what seemed like forever. Alec sat down beside her, then reached up and gently pushed a lock of hair from her face.

"You look tired," he said, smiling sadly at her, his voice hushed. "I'm sorry this has been so hard on you."

Max shook her head lightly. "You've got nothing to be sorry for. We wouldn't be in this situation if it wasn't for me."

The right side of Alec's lips quirked in an approximation of the grin she missed so much. "We both know that's not true. This isn't your fault, Max." When Alec reached forward to brush her cheek, Max found herself blinking back tears.

"But... I wasn't there for you when you needed me." She had to look away from those piercing hazel eyes. They seemed larger, almost luminous, as if he could see into her soul.

"You're here now."

Alec leaned in closer, letting his hands come to rest on either side of her body so she was effectively trapped by his arms. She really had no problem with that, but a little niggling doubt in the back of her mind whispered that it was too good to be true. _Think, Max. No way does he go from completely shutting you out to __**this**__. No way._

She didn't want to think. She quashed the doubt, because Alec was leaning closer, and his eyes were piercing into hers, and the look in those eyes was everything she wanted to see and more. His arms bent, and he lowered his upper body down towards hers. His lips--those wonderful, full lips--were inches from her own. When he spoke again, his breath made her lips tingle.

"I need you, Max," he said in a deep whisper that made other parts of her body tingle. His long bangs hung down and brushed her forehead. His eyes were mesmerizing this close, and she felt like she could drown in those mossy pools. "Help me make the pain go away."

_This can't be happening_. _We shouldn't be doing this._ That niggling doubt was back. As Alec's lips lowered toward hers, her eyes widened. _This can't be happening. God, I want him, I want this to be happening. Even if it is, we can't do this; he's not ready to deal with something like this. But it can't be happening. Can it? _

But his lips were so close now--she could almost feel them on her own--and she so desperately wanted what she knew she should not, that she closed her eyes and gave in to belief.

It wasn't happening.

Max was rudely awakened from her dream, falling backwards on the floor with a thud as the door opened behind her. Her head smacked into the hard floor, and she let out a sharp "OW!" and automatically raised a hand to her now aching head. The pain shattered the last of her fantasy.

Dammit. She had known it was too good to be true. But it had felt so _real_.

When she managed to open her eyes, squinting against sunlight and pain, the first thing she saw was Alec's face, staring down as he stood over her. Her rudely interrupted fantasy was immediately forgotten at the sight of him. He had a roll of clothes under his arm; he must have raided the dresser. His face was blank, and he blinked at her a couple of times, as if he couldn't figure out what she was doing there, at his feet. Frankly, she wasn't sure if she could figure it out either.

"Umm... hey," Max said, still on the floor and still squinting up at him. She didn't really see any way to get out of the situation gracefully.

'Hey," Alec replied, his voice a bit hoarse either from sleep or disuse. Maybe it was residuals left over from her dream, but she thought he sounded incredibly sexy.

Neither transgenic said anything for a moment, just stared at each other, unmoving. Finally, Alec raised an eyebrow at her and ended the stalemate.

"Funny place to sleep," he muttered, then stepped over her and headed toward the bathroom.

Max raised her head to watch him go, still lying prone on the floor. She watched his retreating back as he entered the bathroom, as he reached up to scratch the back of his head as he crossed the threshold. She saw him drop his clean clothes in a heap on the floor, then reach back with a foot to nudge the door shut. The door ticked softly against the jamb, but didn't shut completely. He didn't shut it the rest of the way, and he didn't lock it. She heard the patter of water as he turned on the shower.

Max let her head fall back, and her hands came to rest on her belly. She took a moment, mulling over what had just happened.

Her face lit up as she smiled broadly at the ceiling.

Alec had come out. He'd made an almost smart-assed comment. Sure, the facial expression, the mischievous twinkle in his eyes, the teasing tone of his voice, they were still missing, but his words were better than nothing. It was a step in the right direction, even if it was a baby one.

And he hadn't closed the door. Not completely.

She would take what she could get.

* * *

Max had finally hauled herself off the floor and was now sitting on the couch. She was surprised to find that it was almost lunchtime. She had slept all night and half the next day propped up against that door.

She flicked on the television, and was currently trying to focus on the program on the screen, but she was failing miserably. She had thought the TV would distract her, but her mind kept drifting back to Alec in that bathroom.

She couldn't help but think about what was going on in there.

She pictured him pulling the shirt over his head, struggling with it a bit as he tried to get it around his cast. Her mind visualized in detail how the muscles of his back moved as he did so. She pictured his sweatpants and boxers pooling at his feet as he shoved them down and let them fall. She shifted uncomfortably on the couch as she heard the pattern of the water change, and she knew he had stepped into the shower.

She closed her eyes at the sensory overload. Her mind flashed with visions of dripping water, beading on his skin. Her heart sped a little faster, and she felt her body warm in response.

Max forced herself to open her eyes and methodically began flipping channels, trying to regain focus.

_Get a grip on yourself, Max! _she told herself. _You get yourself all worked up, he'll know. He'll smell it._ She ground her teeth together in an effort to stop the mental slideshow of Alec in the shower. _Put a lid on it, or you'll scare him away. You can do it. Resist. Just like all those times when you were in heat. You are not a slave to your hormones. Willpower. That's all it takes._

She had been focusing so hard on the program on the screen, which happened to be an infomercial for some new exercise gadget, she hadn't even heard the shower shut off or the bathroom door swing open. Her head whirled in surprise when she heard him clear his throat.

He was standing in the bathroom doorway, his hair still damp, the wet ends hanging down in his eyes. He was wearing jeans--which hung a little loose on him since he had lost some weight and OC had guessed the size wrong--and he was barefoot. He hadn't dried himself off too well, so the dark gray t-shirt he wore clung to his skin.

Max's mouth ran dry. All thoughts of willpower went out the window. She was weak, and she knew it. She wanted him, more than she had wanted anyone or anything in her entire life. Not just his body, but all of him. Heart, soul, and mind.

She only hoped that he wouldn't be able to tell. Because as much as she wanted him, she knew that this wasn't about what she wanted. It was about what Alec needed.

What he didn't need was complications. And Max knew she was one big-ass complication.

So she swallowed her desire, buried her yearning for him, and tried to place a casual look on her face. Failed miserably.

She stared.

She couldn't help herself. He was there, just a few feet away from her. Not behind that fucking, goddamn door.

The beard was still there. Max had hoped that he might have shaved it off, had bought an electric razor and scissors for just that purpose, but no such luck. She drank in the sight of him, as if it had been a year instead of a day since she had seen him. That is, until she noticed that _he _noticed that she was staring.

He dropped his gaze, looking down awkwardly, and he shuffled his feet. He actually shuffled his feet. He looked like he wanted to say something but didn't know how to begin. His whole demeanor was so _un_Alec it was frightening.

"What?" Max asked, then mentally cursed herself for blurting out the first word that came to her mind. _No wonder everyone thinks you're a bitch, Max. You never think before you open your goddamn mouth!_

When Alec finally spoke, he was hesitant, which unsettled Max, because it was just another sign of how different he was from how he used to be.

"I was just... I umm... wanted to... " He paused and took a deep breath, then blew it out. His hands curled into tight fists. She could practically hear the thoughts in his head, and could see that he was mentally telling himself to get a grip.

He raised his head and met her eyes. She could see that he was forcing himself to face her, and that the effort cost him. He was only able hold her gaze for a moment before he had to look away. She tried to ignore how much it hurt, that he could barely even look at her.

"Is there something to eat?" he asked finally, eyes darting up again briefly to meet hers before looking away again. Her heart fractured a bit at the uncertainty in his voice. She wasn't sure if that was what he had intended to say when he first started to speak, but she let that go. _Take what you can get, Max_.

She wondered if he had heard her last night, when she had laid herself bare in front of the door that stood closed between them. Maybe he had heard her, and trusted her enough to believe in her words, at least a little bit. She might never know, but she liked to think that some part of him had heard, understood, and responded.

She smiled her most non-threatening smile, hoping to reassure him. She would do anything to keep him from going right back into that room.

"Why don't we order Chinese?"

* * *

Max pushed the Moo Goo Gai Pan around on her plate and tried not to be too obvious about her sidelong glances at Alec.

She had ordered a ton of food--pretty much one of everything--hoping to tempt him, and he didn't disappoint. He ate like he hadn't eaten a real meal in months, handling the chopsticks as if he'd been born with them in his hands. But in every other way, she was disappointed. Every time she tried to get him to talk to her, he would respond with as little words as possible. Sometimes he didn't bother to respond at all. She had to struggle to maintain the one-sided conversation, but it was much better than silence.

He was still spacing out, withdrawing into that internal world where she couldn't follow. She hated it when he did that, because his eyes became flat and emotionless and _empty_, much as they had been in the ring, when he had met her eyes before snapping that man's neck.

She wasn't sure how to get him talking. The few times he had talked to her since they'd come to this place had mostly been the result of something happening to shock him into it. But somehow, she didn't think yelling at him, tackling him, or planting a big, fat kiss on his lips was a really good idea right now.

She grabbed a fortune cookie from the huge pile on the table. Since she had ordered enough food for a small army, the restaurant had apparently thought she needed enough fortune cookies for a small army. She cracked it open and pulled the small bit of paper from the center.

"_Many a false step is made by standing still_," she read aloud. "Hmmm… good thing I'm a girl of action, huh?"

She glanced over at Alec to gage his response. He didn't really do anything, just focused on the food in front of him, but at least the spaced out look had disappeared.

She grabbed another cookie and cracked it open. "_You have wisdom beyond your years_. Creepy how accurate these things are," she added, deadpan.

She could have sworn he almost snorted at that.

"Let's pick one for you." Max slowly reached forward and grabbed another cookie. She crushed this one in her hand, and opened her hand slowly. The small slip of paper lay in the debris on her palm. She reached forward with her other hand and rubbed her thumb over the paper to flatten it.

_A pleasant surprise is in store for you._

She looked up from the fortune to Alec's face. His eyes were downcast and partially hidden behind his long hair. He'd been using that hair as a shield since they'd sat down at the table. She was about ready to march into the bathroom, grab the scissors, and take care of that little irritation once and for all.

Her own cookie should have said _Patience is not your strength_, because she had sworn to herself that she wouldn't push him, but she couldn't keep pretending that things were normal between them.

She glanced back down at the generic fortune and bit her lip indecisively for five seconds before she made up her mind. She watched his face when she spoke, ignoring the words on the piece of paper in front of her, replacing them with her own.

"_Talk to someone who's willing to listen. Your troubles are compounded if you keep them bottled inside_."

He froze, dumpling held tightly in between chopsticks that had stopped half way to his mouth. He stayed that way for a second, then slowly raised the chopsticks to his mouth and bit into the dumpling. He didn't look at her. After he had finished the dumpling, he lowered his chopsticks to the table, then casually reached forward to snag an egg roll. He bit into it, pointedly ignoring her.

She shouldn't have said anything. She shouldn't have pushed. She cursed her impatience, crushing the little slip of paper in her hand and bowing her head in defeat.

"Egg rolls are a little soggy."

Max's head shot up at Alec's unexpected comment, somewhat muffled as he spoke around a mouthful of egg roll. He was finally looking at her, and she could see the wordless command in his eyes, a command that belied his casual words.

_Drop it._

Max sighed. She reached forward, snagged an egg roll, and bit in. She chewed and swallowed hard, the food suddenly tasteless in her mouth. She had come so close to blowing it.

"Yeah. They are kinda soggy," she agreed, meeting his gaze.

_You win. It's dropped._

They finished the food on their plates. They didn't eat in silence, but they might as well have. They each made a few casual comments--the type of worthless conversation that happens when stuck with a complete stranger.

When they were done, they both rose and closed up the remaining boxes. Alec was silent as he helped carry them over to the refrigerator. Max placed the containers in the fridge, taking the boxes that Alec handed to her. Her throat tightened as she noticed how careful he was not to touch her in any way as he passed her each box.

_He can't stand to touch you. He can barely stand to be in the same room with you. One day, you're gonna wake up, and he's gonna be gone._

Max felt a stab of fear at the thought that Alec might decide to leave her. She had spent eight long months without him. She didn't think she could go through that again.

Max moved the boxes around in the fridge for a moment, stalling while she regained her composure. She waited until she thought she could speak without her voice wavering, then forced herself to sound unaffected as she asked, "Want to watch some TV?" She knew how much Alec used to love to watch TV.

He ducked his head and made a humming noise in the back of his throat, as if he was mulling it over. "Ummm... not really," he said quietly, taking a deliberate step back from her. He shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, then added, "I'm kind of tired."

He backed up a few more steps, then turned and walked away from her. Max leaned back against the fridge, needing it for support as she watched his retreating back. Her head fell back against the fridge as he walked through the bedroom door, and, even though he closed it softly, she flinched when the door clicked shut. She waited, eyes rimmed with tears that threatened to fall. She waited for the quiet click of the lock, waited for the storm of emotion that she knew would come with that sound.

It didn't come.

She heard the groaning squeal of mattress springs as he lowered himself on to the bed, then silence. Her legs buckled under her, and she plopped down on floor, legs sticking out at awkward angles.

He hadn't locked the door.

She blinked away the tears. She ran a hand through her hair, then down to cover her eyes. She took several deep, somewhat shaky breaths, trying to deal with the backwash from the barely averted storm of emotion.

How fucked was her life that an emotional breakdown hinged on something as simple as a push-button lock?

* * *

The next morning, Max was leaning against the counter, her back to the coffee pot and a mug of the black sludge it produced wrapped in both hands. It was her second cup, and she held it high and tight against her chest, as if it might somehow escape her if she didn't keep it close. She hadn't taken a sip from that second cup yet, just held on to it like it was a lifeline.

Her hair was a tangled mess, and she had dark, puffy circles under her eyes. Alec had been in the shower when she got up, so there wasn't much she could do about her disheveled state.

Her shark DNA was letting her down. How could she be this tired? She was never this tired. She felt like she had a hangover. At least, she assumed that this was what a hangover felt like. Her transgenic metabolism never let her get drunk enough to have one. Her head was throbbing and the light hurt her eyes. Her back felt like it had been twisted into a pretzel from sleeping--correction, attempting to sleep--on a couch that she determined must have been purchased in Hell. Only the devil could come up with such a torture device.

She hated that fucking couch. She was almost ready to go out and steal some C4, haul the cursed thing outside and blow it into small, unidentifiable pieces. She would stomp on the remaining pieces, then scoop them up and burn them.

Tonight, she was sleeping on the floor.

Max was fortunate that government agents, Familiars, or the Russian mafia were not banging down their door, because she did not even notice that Alec had come out of the bathroom until she spied his bare feet as he stepped into the circle of her downcast vision.

Max raised her head, her eyes traveling up Alec's body until she reached his face. She blinked at him, trying to wrap her head around what was different. Not the clothes. His shirt clung to his damp body again; apparently, the man didn't understand how to use a towel properly. She tried not to drool. The beard and the long hair were still there. But something was different. Her tired mind didn't want to cooperate so she could figure it out.

"That coffee?" he asked, leaning forward a bit to peek in her cup.

That was when it clicked. He was standing close to her. Alec's idea of personal space over the past few days had been expansive, and he had backed away from her every time she had come close to invading it. But here he was, standing next to her, voluntarily including her in his personal space. Never underestimate the lure of coffee. She was so shocked by the act that she couldn't respond, just slowly pushed her arms away from her chest and held out the full cup of coffee to him.

Alec took the cup after only the briefest hesitation. His fingers brushed lightly against hers as it changed hands. A tingling fire shot from Max's fingers all the way through her body at the contact. She raised her eyes to watch him, but he didn't pull away this time, didn't step back, just raised the cup to his lips and took a sip. She told herself not to read too much into it, that it was just a brush of the fingertips, but it was the first time that he didn't flinch when they touched.

He frowned, brow crinkling, as the beverage hit his taste buds. "I don't think this qualifies as coffee."

Max shrugged. "Best I could do," she replied offhandedly, as if it didn't really matter, when inside she was jumping for joy.

Alec took another sip and grimaced. "Maybe you should try harder."

Max cocked out a hip and reached toward the mug. "You don't want it, give it back."

Alec took a step back and pulled the mug protectively against his chest. "Mine."

* * *

Except for that brief exchange in the morning that had reminded her of how they used to be together, the rest of the day had been pretty much like the previous. There were brief exchanges of conversation, but for the most part Alec managed to avoid her. An impressive feat, considering how small the apartment was. He didn't retreat into the bedroom again, but he made sure that wherever she was, he was somewhere else. It was probably because he was afraid she would try to get him to talk to her. It was a valid fear, because that was exactly what she wanted to do. Even if all they did was talk about the weather, she needed to get him to start talking. She didn't see how he could deal with everything that had happened if he kept it locked up inside.

After enduring a mostly silent lunch of pizza, Alec deserted her to jump in the shower. Again. It worried her. She wondered if somehow if everything he had experienced in the past eight months had left him feeling unclean. Maybe he thought he could wash away the pain of everything, of what he had done, of what had happened to him at Manticore.

Manticore. It was the root of all of his problems, she was sure of it. Something relating to Ben and Psy Ops. She hated herself for ever thinking that his six months in Psy Ops hadn't affected him. Fucking Manticore.

If she could have blown up the place a second time, she would have.

* * *

It was three days later, and they had made no real progress. They talked, but it was never about anything important. Never about what they _needed_ to talk about. And now he was in the shower, as usual. The landlord was gonna start pushing them for more money, with all the water Alec used up.

Max hadn't wanted to leave Alec alone, so the two of them had been holed up in the apartment since the day they came back from the hospital. Normally, they would have been rubbing each other the wrong way by this point, but Alec and his whole avoidance thing had forestalled that issue. Problem was, they were going to start running out of stuff soon.

She started to make a mental list of the things they needed in order to distract herself from the fact that only a flimsy door separated her from Alec's naked, wet body. His showers were really starting to have an adverse affect on her mental state.

Max went over to her bag to check the now slim roll of funds. They were running too low on cash. She needed to pull a couple of jobs to get some more cash, but she was scared to death at the thought of leaving him alone, and he was nowhere near ready to back her up. She didn't want to put him in any situation that had even the slightest chance of forcing him to defend himself.

_Be realistic, Max. You can't stay with him every second of the day._

She chewed on her bottom lip, torn, until a sudden brainstorm hit_. It just might work_, she thought.

Max was sitting at the table, watching the bathroom door and drumming her fingers on the tabletop. Alec came out of the shower, glanced at her, then did a double take at the look on her face.

"What?" he asked, both hesitance and suspicion in his tone.

Max pursed her lips and continued to drum her fingers. "We're getting low on cash."

"Oh," Alec replied, and his lips turned down in a frown. A line dug itself in between his eyebrows, and he seemed like he was trying to figure out what she wanted him to do about this little bit of information.

"I was thinking about hitting a bar on the edge of town, maybe fleece a few poor saps out of some cash playing pool," Max said casually, suddenly taking a keen interest in examining her practically non-existent fingernails.

He grunted noncommittally, looking down at floor. Max hesitated for a moment, then added softly, "I thought maybe you could come with me."

She thought that maybe it was time he got out a bit. They'd been cooped up for far too long. Maybe if she got him back in his old element, doing something he was comfortable doing, something he used to love, he might make some progress.

At her words, his head snapped up. His eyes were wide, and she could see the poorly concealed panic there. _Shit, too soon. I shouldn't have mentioned it. _

He swallowed, then blinked a couple of times to try to get his eyes to quit being saucers. He ducked his head, putting that damn shield of hair between them again. He opened his mouth to speak, but had to clear his throat when his voice cracked.

"Uh... that's okay. Think I'll stay here. Maybe watch some TV."

Max felt a wave of disappointment, followed immediately by fear. She was still scared to leave him alone. If she would have taken a moment and thought about it, she would have understood that it was because she was afraid to come back and find that _she _was the one who was left alone. She swore that she wouldn't stop him if he wanted to leave, but that didn't make it any easier to accept the fact that he just might do that. But she knew that she had to follow up on her plan. If she made some excuse not to go through with it and stay with him, he would think that she didn't trust him.

Max rubbed distractedly at a stain on the table with her thumbnail, unwilling to look at him unless he see her inner turmoil. "Okay. If you don't really feel like it." She got up and looked down at herself. She was a rumpled mess. Definitely not the way to fleece men out of their money. "I'm gonna get changed."

She grabbed her bag and headed into the bathroom. Forty-five minutes and a shower later, she emerged from the bathroom, transformed. She was wearing a short, black leather skirt, a red, off-the-shoulder shirt that accentuated her curves and stopped just above her belly button, and black, calf-high boots. She figured it would be a lot easier to relieve men of their money if they were too busy staring at her ass. That way, they might blame her winning on her distracting looks instead of what she would really use to win, transgenic reflexes and vision.

She had stolen the outfit when she picked up that white gown for the fight club. She had rationalized it at the time, that she might need an alternate outfit, but the truth was, she'd taken it because she'd liked it. It was more her style than that fancy white dress. Her hair hung straight and sleek. She had even put on makeup, her lips now cherry red to match her top and her eyes accentuated by dark eyeliner. She kept telling herself that she'd dressed up as a distraction to the guys she was about to fleece. But as she stepped out of the bathroom, she knew that part of her wanted to see how Alec would react.

He was on the couch, slouched so low that he was practically horizontal, his casted hand resting on his belly. He had the remote in his other hand and was flipping channels with a surly look on his face, apparently displeased with the channel selection. She raised her eyebrows at him. He was actually watching television. For the first time, he was actually doing something he used to do. But he didn't take his eyes off the TV. She wasn't sure if it was because he didn't notice she was there, or if he was ignoring her.

She stood there for a minute, hoping that he would notice. Still, he didn't look. She shifted impatiently, then finally gave up. She cleared her throat to get his attention, and then spoke.

"Well, I'm gonna bounce. Figure I'll be back around one."

Alec rolled his head to look at her, and had opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, he caught sight of her. He froze, mouth hanging open as his eyes widened to take in the full view.

Max forced herself to play it cool, but secretly she was thrilled. "So, catch ya later." She headed out the door, adding a little extra sway to the hips. She could see out of her peripheral vision that Alec's head turned to follow her. She yanked open the sticky front door, and when she stepped through, there was a huge, satisfied smile on her face.

* * *

When the sun rose the next morning, Max was sleeping on the floor. It was not because she had not wanted to sleep on the couch, though she hadn't really _wanted_ to sleep on the evil torture device again, but because Alec was sleeping on it. She had gotten in a little later than she'd said she would, more like three in the morning instead of one. When she'd shuffled in the door, a cool six hundred stuffed in her boot, she'd found Alec lying on the couch, fast asleep.

She felt such relief when she'd come in to find him lying there. She wanted to think he was there because he'd been worried about her and had tried to stay up until she'd gotten home, but the lack of shark DNA had done him in. It was probably more like he had stayed up late OD'ing on television and had passed out. She walked quietly over to him and squatted down beside him. For several minutes, she just watched him sleep.

She decided she would stick with her first theory.

She'd gone into the bedroom and stared at the bed. She could have laid down on it and tried to get a little bit of sleep, but she found she couldn't fight the continual pull on her body coming from the other room. She started to shed her clothes, too late realizing that she had left her bag of clean clothes in the other room. She was about to go and retrieve it when she spotted one of Alec's t-shirts hanging over the bedrail.

Max moved to the bed, then reached forward and slowly pulled it off the rail. The shirt was so soft. She didn't care how ridiculous and sappy and goddamn _girly_ it was--she brought the shirt up and rubbed the cloth against her cheek.

It still held his scent. She inhaled deeply, eyes closing in pleasure as she breathed him in. She forgot about her clothes. She stripped down to her panties, then pulled the shirt over her head. It felt wonderful, to be wrapped in his scent. She grabbed a pillow and a blanket off of the bed, then moved dreamily back out into the living room, lowered herself down on the floor in front of the couch, and had promptly passed out next to Alec, with a small smile on her face.

A warning tingle on the back of her neck awoke her, and she sensed she was being watched. When she focused her senses on the room, the only other person she could detect was Alec, so she relaxed and snuggled down further into the pillow.

A half an hour later, when she finally opened her eyes, she jerked in surprise when she found him sitting next to her on the floor, cross-legged. He had his head propped up on one hand, with his elbow resting on his leg. He watched her with a bored expression, and it made her wonder just how long he had been staring at her.

"Jesus! Scare the shit out of me why don't you?" She rolled over onto her back and reached up to rub the sleep from her eyes.

"We need to talk."

At those words, Max propped herself up on an elbow. She thought,_ This is it, he's finally ready to talk about it. _"Okay," she said carefully, not wanting to do or say anything that might make him change his mind.

Alec's face transformed into a look of consternation. "You know, you really kind of suck at the whole housewife thing."

Max ran a hand through her hair, brow wrinkling in confusion. She was still a bit fuzzy. "What?"

"Food, Max. We are seriously lacking in food."

Max sat up completely, brain finally kicking into gear and processing what he had said. "Did you just call me a housewife?" she asked, and her voice held the threat of serious bodily damage.

Alec rolled his eyes at her. "Whatever. Will you stay focused on the problem, here? This is a serious issue, Max. You know how our metabolisms run."

"I will assume you are weak from hunger, and therefore semi-delusional, which is the only reason that I am not kicking your ass for calling me a housewife."

"Uh huh," Alec said dismissively, waving away her threat. "I need munchies, Max. Pork rinds. Potato chips. Oreo cookies. And beer. Definitely beer."

Max tried not to get too disappointed. She had thought that he had been ready to talk about what had happened back at Manticore. She should have known it was too soon.

No, this was a good thing. Alec was talking to her, had actually initiated a conversation, and his tone was the most animated it had been since she had found him. And he had rediscovered his appetite. Junk food had always been one of Alec's big weaknesses, besides TV.

Max ran both hands through her hair and shook it. "Guess it's time to do a little more grocery shopping," she said, yawning at the end of it and stretching to do her cat DNA proud. She felt a smug sense satisfaction at the way Alec watched her stretch, with part fascination and part something else.

"Isn't that my shirt? It's not like I have a lot of them you know." Alec asked, his tone accusatory. So _that_ had been the something else.

Max stopped in mid-stretch and looked down at herself, flushing slightly when she realized that she was wearing nothing but Alec's t-shirt and a pair of red satin panties. She was trying in vain to think of some explanation other than the truth for why she was wearing his shirt when she noticed his cast was gone. Her hand shot out without thinking to grab his wrist, and she pulled it to her.

"Hey, you took off your cast! Are you sure you should've done that? What if it isn't finished healing? You could..."

"It's fine, Max," Alec said firmly, and pulled his hand out of her grasp. He stood abruptly and walked away from her, into the kitchen.

It hurt that he felt the need to put distance between them, but what hurt even more was the way he rubbed the hand she had held against his sweatpants.

She was getting tired of this. Every time she thought they took a step forward, it seemed like he would take two steps back. A girl could only take so much.

She told herself not to get discouraged. It wouldn't help either of them. But maybe it wouldn't hurt to get just a little pissed off. Had to vent those emotions somehow. And besides, even though he'd been gone for eight months, he should be used to her being pissed off.

"Here," she said sharply, and tugged his t-shirt over her head, leaving her in nothing but those little red panties. She threw the shirt across the room at him, and it hit him in the back of the head. "You can have your shirt back now."

She turned and stalked into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. Just as she had turned, she had spotted him out of the corner of her eye, turning around to respond to her assault.

Good. She hoped he got an eyeful.

* * *

When Max finished with her shower, she realized that in her huff, she had forgotten to grab clean clothes. The problem in that was that the bathroom towels were notoriously small. She wrapped one around her as best she could, but it left little to the imagination. Hell, if she breathed too deeply, she'd probably lose the thing.

Shit. Going out there practically naked to hunt for her clothes would totally ruin her righteously indignant exit.

Max steeled herself for the inevitable loss of dignity and opened the door. She peeked out, but Alec was nowhere to be found. He must be in the bedroom. She sighed with relief and started to take a step out into the room when her foot bumped into something.

There, at her feet, was the bag with her clothes in it. Alec had realized her dilemma and had brought her bag. She went from being frustrated with him to all mushy in a second. She smiled as she tugged the bag into the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, she emerged, fully dressed and ready to go. Well, not _really_ ready, as she hated to leave him again, but as ready as she was ever going to be. Now all she needed was the money, which was still stashed in her one boot. Which was still in the bedroom. With Alec.

The door was open, but Max still approached hesitantly. The bedroom had become his sanctuary, and she didn't want to just barge right in. She really was trying to do a better job of dealing with his personal boundaries.

She stopped in the doorway, resting a hand on the doorjamb and looking at the floor. "Hey, I don't wanna bother you or anything, but I need to get…" she trailed off as she raised her head. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning over to tie his shoes. His jaw was rigidly set, and his kept his eyes focused on his task, with the concentration of a little kid learning to do up his own laces. "What are you doing?" Max asked.

Alec finished tying his shoes. "I'm going with you," he said, then stood up and walked over to her. His motions seemed tightly controlled, and when she looked in his eyes, she could see why. Alec had decided that he needed to do this--she could see the determination in his eyes clear enough--but behind that was mild panic riding just under the surface. He didn't want to do it, but he was going to force himself to go through with it.

"You sure?" Max asked quietly.

Alec hesitated, and she was afraid that he was going to change his mind. But then he straightened and squared his shoulders. He took a deep breath, held it, then blew it out. "Yeah," he replied, locking his eyes onto hers. Then his eyes softened slightly. "God knows what you'll buy if I leave it all up to you," he added, his voice almost, but not quite, teasing.

Max's lips quirked in a crooked smile, and her brown eyes sparked. For the first time, she didn't feel so alone in the fight to save Alec's soul.

"Let's go then."

* * *

Max started to see more and more of the old Alec. Sometimes it was just the tilt of his head or the expression on his face, but it seemed like he was becoming more himself every day. On top of that, he seemed to be slowly rediscovering his inner smart ass. Several times, she had done a double take when he had made some snarky comment about something, usually in relation to her. She had never been so glad to hear a personal dig in her whole life.

Several times, she tried to get him to talk about his time in Psy Ops, or even at the fight club, but every time he managed to change the topic. He was getting really good at changing the topic. Sometimes, she didn't even notice he had done it until hours later.

Three weeks and a day after the night he broke down, Max's shark DNA gave her a break, and she slept for seven hours straight. She rolled off the couch, because, torture device that it was, she'd stopped sleeping on the floor when she woke up to cockroaches crawling over her one night. She dragged herself over to the bathroom and stumbled into it, still half asleep. And came to an abrupt halt, instantly alert.

There was hair everywhere.

Alec was in front of sink. He turned toward her, a look of frustration on his face. One hand held scissors that were hovering in the air over his head, while the other hand was holding on to a chunk of his ridiculously long hair. His cheeks were now smooth. She had to fight the urge to go over to him and run her hands over the wonderfully smooth skin of his face. The remainder of his beard was scattered all over the sink and floor, along with chunks of his hair.

It was a war zone in there, and Max didn't think Alec was on the winning side.

The look on his face made her want to burst out laughing. She found herself struggling to keep from smiling, but mostly failed in that attempt.

"Ummm... what are you doing, Alec?" she asked, unable to keep the mirth from her voice.

Alec's voice came out in a frustrated growl. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm cutting my fucking hair!"

Max nodded, lips pulled in several directions as she tried to fight the smile. She gave up. "Is that what you call it?"

Alec slammed the scissors down on the sink top. His hair was standing up in uneven spikes. She was sure he had no idea how goddamn cute he looked. "Well, I'm sorry, but they didn't have a Haircutting 101 course back at Manticore!"

Max waited for him to change at the mention of Manticore--to close up, withdrawal into himself, flinch, _something_--but he didn't. _Well, __**that's**__ progress_, Max thought. Alec glared at her for a few heartbeats, then angrily picked the scissors back up and started hacking at the long strands that had so offended Max for so long_. _

Max moved forward into the bathroom and grabbed his arm to still it. "Here, let me help you."

He semi-reluctantly let her take the scissors from his hands, and allowed himself to be steered to sit down on the toilet lid. She dug a comb out from under the debris on the sink and began to run it through his hair. The slightly damp strands brushed her fingertips as she pulled the comb through. She closed her eyes at the sensation. She wanted to just drop the comb and bury her fingers in his hair.

"Max," Alec asked questioningly, and her eyes shot open at his voice. "You gonna help out here, or what?"

"Right," Max replied, and started in with the scissors.

She didn't do a much better a job than he had. Alec ended up with a kind of uneven disarray. He looked at the results of her handiwork in the mirror and frowned.

"I thought you were supposed to be better at this?"

"Whaddaya mean?" Max asked defensively, crossing her arms over her chest. It didn't look that bad. At least it wasn't in his eyes anymore.

Alec reached up to tug at several strands. "You know, 'cause you're a woman and all. Aren't you supposed to be genetically predisposed or something?"

Max's stance went from crossed arms to hands on hips. "Well, I guess they left the _Suzy-Homemaker_ gene out of my cocktail," she replied in a pissed tone. She turned on her heel and marched out of the bathroom, muttering. "_Men_. Genetically predisposed to be _stupid_!"

She was to the couch, about to throw herself down on it in a huff, when she heard him laugh. It was pure and rich and the most wonderful sound in the universe. It threw her for such a loop that she tripped over Alec's shoes, which had been dumped at the end of couch, and fell unto an ungraceful heap on the floor.

At the sound of the commotion, Alec poked his head out the bathroom door, spiky tufts of hair sticking up on his head. He eyed her on the floor. "_Who's_ genetically predisposed to be stupid?" He smirked at her--the full-on trademark Alec smirk--then popped back into the bathroom, snickering.

Max rolled onto her back and stared up at ceiling, her vision suddenly misty. She kept hearing that laugh play over in her mind, kept seeing that smirk.

"_Wow_," she whispered.

* * *

They had been at the apartment for exactly four weeks and six days. The sun had set hours ago. Max had been tossing and turning on the couch for over and hour. She tried changing positions several times, but nothing seemed to work. When she'd finally had enough, she grabbed the pillow behind her head and threw it with a frustrated scream.

"I don't think that really helps."

Max shot upright at his voice. Her heart did a little flip-flop in her chest.

He was standing in the doorway of the bedroom, leaning against the doorjamb, arms and ankles crossed. He was wearing sweatpants, but his chest was bare, and his crossed his arms made a very interesting display of his muscles. The scars on his chest were gone; only her transgenic eyesight would pick up the slight imperfections in his skin as a reminder of what had once been done to him. His hair was mussed from sleep, and his eyes were heavy. The first thing she thought was _yum_. The second was that she must have woken him up.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you."

Alec shrugged, brushing off the unnecessary apology. Then he ducked his head and was quiet for a moment. He nodded to himself, as if confirming a decision, then raised his head again to look at her.

"Why don't you take the bed? I'll sleep on the couch."

Max held her breath. She would love to sleep in a real bed again, even a shitty one that squeaked. But the bedroom was Alec's sanctuary, the place he went when he needed to be by himself. She couldn't invade his only refuge.

"Nah. That's okay. I'm good."

"Come on, Max. You're keeping me up with all your tossing and turning. And unlike you, I actually need about six or seven hours of sleep a night." The look on his face indicated he wouldn't take no for an answer. "I'm gonna stand here and stare at you until you give in."

And he would, too. One of the first things that Alec had rediscovered in himself was his perverse sense of stubbornness.

Max spun on the couch to put her feet on the floor, running a hand through her hair in what was quickly becoming a nervous habit. She wasn't sure if this was a good idea, but she didn't really think she should argue with him about it. If he was okay with giving up his sanctuary, then she would have to trust that he was ready to do so.

"All right. You can have a turn on the rack, here. But don't say I didn't warn you."

Max got up and headed toward the bedroom door. Alec didn't move, partially blocking her entrance. Only when she stood directly in front of him did he straighten and lower his arms, staring down at her. She found herself at a loss for words, and nodded her thanks, then went to step past him into the bedroom.

"Sweet dreams, Max," Alec whispered as she moved past.

Max's breath caught, and she stopped to turn back to look at him. She could have drowned in the love that welled up for him. "You too."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, she could still hear him tossing and turning on the couch. She stared at the ceiling, feeling guilt press down her. The bed felt marvelous. Although it was a cheap mattress, it felt like heaven compared to that damn couch. She could stretch out as much as she wanted, instead of constantly bumping into the back of the couch. The evil couch that she was currently subjecting Alec to.

Max rolled out of bed and silently stalked to the bedroom door, which she had left open. She was unwilling to put that door between them again. She paused in the doorway, hands coming to rest on the doorframe by her head, and she rested her head on her hands and watched him. Alec seemed too involved with trying to find a comfortable position to notice.

He was never going to succeed. The couch was just a little too short for his 6'1'' frame. It wasn't deep enough to allow him to bend himself comfortably, and the arms of the couch were too hard to let his head or feet rest on them. He would never get any sleep like that. Alec's genetic makeup, discounting human DNA, was more cat than anything else, and cats needed their sleep. She bit her bottom lip, scared to even make the suggestion that had just popped into her head. All it took was to hear him heave an irritated sigh, though, to make up her mind.

"Come on, this is stupid. We can share the bed."

Alec propped himself up on his elbow, his eyes tired slits. The look on his face was unreadable. "You serious?"

Max swallowed hard under the strength of his gaze. "I wouldn't have said it if I wasn't. There's plenty of room for both of us."

Alec rolled off the couch and stood, then shuffled toward her, rubbing his eyes. Then the side of his mouth quirked into a sleepy, half-smirk. "You're not hitting on me, are you?"

Max's heart beat a little faster, and she had to break eye contact with him. The thought of how she would deal with sharing a bed with Alec was one of the main reasons she had hesitated. To have to lie there, all night, with his warm body next to hers? It would surely be torture greater than what that goddamn couch could cook up. She tried to conceal her reaction with an eye roll.

"Please. Be serious. Like I would ever dream of it." _Vividly. Every night. In Technicolor._

Alec yawned and stretched, and Max mentally cursed herself for making the suggestion they share the bed. How on earth would she ever be able to sleep next to him? The man even made yawning look sexy. She should have told him she would take the couch again. But it was too late now.

Alec nodded lazily, then went back to grab the pillow from the couch. He dragged his feet all the way past her into the bedroom over to the bed, then fell down on it face first, maneuvering the pillow so it was under his head when he completed his fall.

Max walked hesitantly over to the bed. She sat down gingerly on it, then carefully lowered herself down, making sure she didn't touch him. God knew what would happen if she came into contact with his bare skin.

"Don't try anythin' funny, Max," came Alec's sleepy voice, muffled by his pillow. "Got a… black belt in …," his words were interrupted by a yawn, "ev'rthin'…" His voice trailed off, and seconds later she heard him begin to snore softly.

Max laid stiffly on her back, her hands folded on her belly, arms in tight, and her eyes wide open, unable to even blink. "Wouldn't dream of it," she replied, her voice hoarse.

* * *

She didn't sleep. Not one wink. She was hyper aware of him. Even move he made, every change in his breathing, caught her attention. She hadn't been this close to him, for this length of time, in... well, _ever_. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore and got up.

The shift in the bed alerted him, and he mumbled, "Mmmph… somefin' wrong?"

"Nothing," Max whispered, shaking her head. "Just shark DNA. Go back to sleep."

He muttered something unintelligible that must have been an affirmative, for he snuggled deeper into his pillow with a contented hum. Max took one last glance at him lying there, watching the moonlight from the small window caress the muscles of his back in a way that she never could. That thought chased her from the room.

She paced in the living room for a while, but it didn't help. She was too hot. The air in the apartment seemed stifling. She had to get out. As quietly as she could, she moved over to the window, lifted it, then climbed out on to the fire escape. She crouched there, the cool breeze from the ocean a shock against her fevered skin. It wasn't long before she felt the urge to get higher, so she climbed up the fire escape to the roof of the four-story building. It wasn't the Space Needle, but it would have to do.

Max stood there, staring off into the distance, trying to get the night air to cool her blood. The ocean breeze blew her long, dark hair back from her face. The moonlight made her skin seem almost luminous. At that moment, she looked not like a genetically engineered warrior, but a siren, her preternatural beauty capable of luring men to their doom.

She ached for him. Her whole body urged her to touch him, kiss him. Hell, she would have been happy if she could have just wrapped her body around his as he slept. Her need was becoming an actual, physical pain. Desire was a bitch when you couldn't give in to it.

She had to get it under control. She couldn't let on, not now. It had taken over a month, but he'd finally made some headway. He was finally starting to trust her a little. She didn't want to do anything that might threaten that.

Unfortunately, her body had other ideas.

* * *

For three nights, they shared the bed, each staying on their side of it. After that first night, after reminding herself once again that she should take what she could get, Max found herself able to fall asleep next to him. She told herself that it was enough to have him so close. Her body disagreed. On the morning following that third night, about two hours before sunrise, Max woke to find herself wrapped around Alec.

She didn't remember moving to his side of the bed. She must have rolled over during the night and snuggled up against him in her sleep. Her head was resting on his shoulder, and her arm was wrapped around his bare chest. His arm must have automatically wrapped around her in his sleep; she felt the comforting weight of it on her back.

Max stilled. She focused her senses on him, trying to figure out if he was awake. She let out the breath she had been holding when she realized he was still asleep. She had time to untangle herself from him before he woke up.

That was easier said than done. Her body didn't _want_ to move. It wanted to stay right where it was. Alec's skin was so warm and soft and _male_. She had dreamed of a moment like this, and out of all of her dreams of him, that one had been her favorite. Sure, there had been heated dreams of impassioned moments, tangled bodies and slick skin, and they were certainly enjoyable, but those weren't the dreams that touched her heart. The ones that touched her the most were those that revolved around a simple, tender moment. So she decided to stay where she was. A couple of minutes wouldn't hurt.

Max sighed contentedly before she could stop herself.

A moment later, she noticed Alec's heart skip a beat. It stuttered, skipped again, then pounded rapidly to make up for the missed beats. His breathing changed, hitching with agitation. He was awake.

Max pushed herself up and off of him. She backed away to her side of the bed, muttered a quiet, "Sorry," then rolled to face away from him. She couldn't stand to see whatever look might be on his face. She could tell from the way his body reacted to finding her in his arms that he was upset.

Max stared at the opposite wall, but all of her other senses were trained on Alec. He was completely still on the other side of the bed. She wasn't even sure if he was breathing. She stayed still as well, facing away from him, afraid to move. Five minutes passed, and she was almost ready to relax, thinking he had gone back to sleep and disaster was averted, when she felt the bed shift. It dipped on his side and she heard the unmistakable sound of him swinging his legs to the floor. He stayed like that for exactly eighteen point two seconds--Max knew because she counted--then he pushed himself to his feet. He took exactly five steps over to the door, and still, Max couldn't bear to look.

His footsteps stilled as he paused in the doorway. Max's transgenic hearing picked up a soft rustle, and she knew he had run his hand through his hair. Then she heard him move, accompanied by a soft whine of hinges.

Her body jerked as she heard the sound of the door closing between them. She closed her eyes, too late to stop the tears from falling.

* * *

Max thought the next day would be awkward. She hesitantly exited the bedroom, seriously afraid to confront him. She was also sure that she looked an absolute mess. She had cried herself to sleep last night, and her eyes were puffy and red-rimmed. She expected the silent treatment, or even worse yet, expected that he had just decided to up and leave. What she didn't expect was breakfast.

Alec was in the kitchen, humming as he stirred something in a bowl. There was flour and broken eggs everywhere. Wonderful smells wafted from his direction. There was what looked like two pounds of bacon sitting on the counter, fried to crispy perfection. He must have snuck out and raided a market, because they hadn't had any bacon yesterday. As she took it all in, Alec began to pour what must be pancake batter into a frying pan. He turned his head to acknowledge her, calling out, "Hey, Max." There was a smear of flour on his cheekbone.

Max's mouth watered, and it wasn't just because of the food.

Alec continued to focus on his task, moving around the kitchen with experienced assurance. Max wondered where he had picked up the knack, which he had kept quiet until this point. Probably one of his deep cover missions for Manticore.

She wasn't sure how to take him, though. He was pretending like nothing had happened the night before, like he hadn't closed that door between them. After all the progress they had made, for him to close that door between them… it had broken something inside her. It made her realize that the chance was slim to none that they would ever be more than what they were. The future she had envisioned for them would most likely never come to be. And there he was, humming some stupid song, making them breakfast, pretending like what he had done last night didn't mean anything. In fact, he seemed to be overcompensating. Alec McDowell, Master of Avoidance and Distraction.

She didn't know if she should let him distract her. She was deeply hurt by what had happened last night, but how could she explain that to him? She was just supposed to be his friend. A friend wouldn't have taken it so hard. A friend's heart wouldn't have been crushed into pieces. She couldn't talk about what had happened without confessing how she felt. Sure, she could try, but her hurt was still too raw, and she had no desire to make light of it. So she decided to follow his tactics, do a little escape and evade of the whole issue. She was good at escape and evade.

"So…" Max said unsteadily, then trailed off, rubbing her eyes to cover the traitorous gathering of moisture there. Her body was once again mutinous, ignoring her decision to escape and evade. She would _not_ let him see her cry. After she had gotten rid of the evidence of her weak heart, she ran her hands through her hair and yawned, hoping he would take her eye-rubbing as a normal, hey-I'm-still-waking-up-here activity.

She cleared her throat, then plopped dramatically into one of the kitchen chairs. "What's for breakfast?"

* * *

Max allowed Alec's avoidance tactics to go on for another couple of days without resistance. Partly because she needed time to steady herself after that night. But mostly because he was acting so much more like himself, she didn't have the heart to confront him. It was like something clicked and fell into place that night, and the broken pieces of Alec were put back together again.

She found herself waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for him to take those two steps back. But he didn't. Anyone that had known him back in Seattle, before he had left, would not have found him any different. _She _didn't find him any different.

They bickered about anything and everything. She'd started smacking him on the backside of the head like she used to. The first time she did it, they both froze, shocked at the unfamiliar action that had once been so familiar. Alec was the one to thaw first, rubbing the back of his head and feigning hurt, much as he always had. It was another step forward.

They still shared the bed. There was an invisible wall down the middle of that bed that Max made sure she never crossed. She wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

They started heading out of town to hit pool halls, fleecing the ordinaries for cash. They worked flawlessly together. When they'd worn out their welcome at the nearby bars, Alec suggested they pick up a little permanent transportation. Later that night, they stole two motorcycles. Even though it didn't compare to her Ninja, Max was overjoyed to have wheels again. That night, they raced their pilfered bikes down deserted streets, not stopping until dawn. With the wind in her hair and Alec at her side, it was one of the happiest moments of her life.

She could have gone on like this forever, if not for the little tingle in the back of her mind, whispering that all was not well. Whispering the word Manticore. Alec had still never spoken of it, or of his time in Los Angeles. He seemed better, she wanted to believe that he _was _better, but she didn't think he could truly heal until he talked about what had happened. One afternoon, she finally found the courage to confront him. She told herself that he wouldn't put her off this time.

He was in the living room, sprawled out on his stomach in front of the TV, watching music videos. He had a bag of potato chips and a beer in front of him. His head was bopping in time to the music, upper body rocking from side to side. Damn Manticore. Did they have to engineer him to be so goddamn irresistible?

She faltered. How could she do anything that would threaten his sense of self? No, it had to be done. She steeled herself, then sat down cross-legged on the floor beside him.

"Hey... Alec..." she began, stumbling over words that didn't want to come. He turned his head to her and raised his eyebrows at her expectantly, never once stilling his motions with the music. _God_, she thought, _I am so in love with this man_. She took a deep breath, then blew it out. "I think it's time we talked."

Alec rolled his eyes at her, then turned his head back to the screen. "Come on, Max, this is my favorite song!"

_There he goes, changing the topic again. Well, it's not going to work this time. _"Alec, I really think we need to talk about this. You can't keep pretending like nothing ever happened."

Max jumped, startled, when Alec suddenly popped up off the floor. She thought he was going to walk away from her, but he reached down and pulled her from the floor. She about had a heart attack when he started to move his body in time with the music, trying to pull her with him. "Come on, Maxie, let's dance."

Her head was swimming. Alec's hands were on her, trying to get her to move with him. His body moved in perfect time with the music, and her own body wanted to respond to his. _No, no, Max, focus. _"I don't wanna dance, Alec. I wanna talk."

Alec smirked down at her, mischief in his eyes. "Don't be such a buzzkill, Max. Come on, let's have a little fun." At that, he yanked hard on her arm, pulling her to slam up against his chest. Max stopped breathing, standing there with her chest against his, staring up into his eyes. Then she yelped as he spun her out away from him, the yelp changing to a laugh when he pulled her back again. His mood was infectious, and she found herself starting to move with him.

They danced and laughed, their bodies in tune with one another. Max forgot what had brought them to this point, she was so lost in the moment. Finally, when the asshole neighbor started pounding at the racket they were making, they collapsed into a puddle on the floor, laughing even harder.

Max felt so good, she completely forgot that Alec had skillfully avoided talking to her. Again.

* * *

It was four days later, and Max was hungry. She was in no mood to try to put something together to eat, and she couldn't drag Alec away from the television. There was a Bruce Lee movie marathon on, and he was enthralled. His eyes were locked on the screen.

"Alec, I'm hungry," she had called into the living room from the kitchen, where she was staring into the open fridge with a frown on her face.

"Then eat something, Max. It's not rocket science," came his reply, sounding distracted. She glanced over in his direction, and no, he hadn't taken his eyes from the TV.

"All we have left is your damn junk food," she replied irritatedly, "though how you haven't managed to finish off the last of that, I'll never know. I want real food. Cooked by an actual person, not processed in a machine."

"Well, I heard that there are these places that you can get some of that stuff. I think they're called restaurants."

Max slammed the fridge door shut. "Thanks _so _much for the information. I'll be sure to get right on that," she replied, words dripping in sarcasm.

She moved into the living room and grabbed her jacket off the recliner, which had somehow become a clothes tree for both of them. She shrugged into it, then moved over to the couch to stand next to him. She stared down at him expectantly. "Well?" she asked.

Alec glanced up at her, puzzled. "What?"

"Aren't you coming with me?" Max asked, puzzled herself. Lately, Alec had stuck to her side like a burr. Where she went, he went.

He turned back to the television, gesturing at it with a wave of his hand. "It's _Bruce Lee_, Max," he said, as if that explained everything.

Max rolled her eyes at this. "Come on, we could totally kick Bruce Lee's ass. It's not like you're gonna learn anything."

"We can kick everybody's ass, Max. Quit spoiling my fun." He wriggled a little on the couch, entrenching himself deeper into its drab cushions.

"Be that way, then," Max huffed, then turned to head out the door, irritated at herself for being disappointed that he didn't come with her. She had to quit thinking that they were _like that _when they were most definitely _**not **__like that_. Her hand was on the doorknob, ready to pull, when Alec's voice stopped her.

"Hey, can you go to that Mexican place? The one outside of town? I really could go for some Mexican."

Max turned back, frowning. "But that place is always mobbed. It'll take forever."

"Please, Maxie?" Alec begged, pulling the earnest, boyishly cute smile out of his arsenal. "_Please?_"

Damn him.

"Fine. Have it your way. But you start stinking up the bedroom like last time, you are sleeping on the couch."

"Deal," Alec replied, giving her a smile that flashed every one of his teeth.

Max gritted her teeth as she marched out the door to keep herself from muttering. The things you would do for love.

Well, they did say that the way to a man's heart was through his stomach.

* * *

It was starting to rain. Max stared up at the sky, which was now opening up with a steady downpour that was getting harder by the minute. She heard the distant rumble of thunder. No way was she lugging around take out boxes in this mess.

Max turned away from her bike, which had been stashed with Alec's behind the building. She started to head back toward the door to the apartment building, planning to drag Alec away from Bruce Lee. It would be nice to go out to dinner for once, to a place that wasn't a bar. As she rounded the corner of the building, a flash of movement caught her eye. Her gaze was drawn upward, and her mouth fell open slightly as she saw Alec climbing out onto the fire escape. She was about to call out to him, thinking that he was coming out to tell her he changed his mind, when she froze. He didn't look at her, looked like he didn't even see her. He didn't glance down, but glanced up, then followed his gaze as he climbed the fire escape to the roof.

Max frowned. What the hell was he doing? It was raining out. Alec hated the rain. She walked over until she stood just below where the fire escape hung above her. She leapt, landing on the edge of the fire escape with barely a sound. She climbed, feeling a pressure starting to build in her chest with each step. She wasn't sure why. She had climbed to the roof plenty of times herself. There was nothing weird about Alec doing it. Excepting, of course, the whole pouring down rain thing.

Max reached the top, then levered herself over the edge to land in a crouch on the roof. She stood, her eyes immediately scanning for Alec. She found him, sitting on the edge of an air conditioning unit in the center of the roof. Rain landed with soft pings on the metal around him.

Her heart skidded to a stop.

In his hands was what looked like a Smith & Wesson revolver--an old school, police issue six-shooter. She couldn't even begin to fathom how he had gotten it, because it seemed like her brain was misfiring. The gun's cylinder was open, and he was methodically slipping bullets into the chambers. Once the sixth and final bullet slipped in, he spun the cylinder, then slammed it home. His thumb clicked off the safety.

He didn't look up at her, but he knew she was there. When he spoke, he didn't sound like the Alec she had just left in the apartment, who had boyishly begged for Mexican food. It was the Alec from over a month prior, the Alec that had been hanging onto his sanity by a thread. He huffed, then shook his head slightly, never taking his eyes from the gun.

"_Figures_."

* * *

A/N: Please forgive me. The muse is feeling quite evil, as she is still pissed I did not write a single word for over a week... hence the extreme length of this chapter (torture for me) and the cliffhanger (torture for you). The cliffie was also the reason for the deliberate lack of Alec's point of view in this chapter, in case you are wondering. His thoughts would have kind of given it away.

So, what do you think? Can Alec be saved?

_P.S_. _to Ty3: _You are psychic. The bit with Max falling in the door was in my plot outline for weeks. I hope you enjoyed how it turned out.


	14. Or Not

Gone

By Inzane

Disclaimer: I purchased the rights to Dark Angel last week, but unfortunately, the check bounced, so they took it back.

Summary: How much abuse can a guy take before he snaps? Events in Hello, Goodbye take a different turn. AU from that point.

Warning: Parts of this chapter may be disturbing. It's rated M for a reason, people.

* * *

Chapter 14: ... Or Not 

_I can't escape myself,_

_So many times I've lied,_

_But there's still rage inside._

_Somebody get me through this nightmare,_

_I can't control myself._

"_Animal I Have Become_" Three Days Grace

Alec had tried. He had really tried. He had thought that, maybe, if he acted like the man he used to be, he could _be_ the man he used to be. The man he so desperately _wanted_ to be.

He had forced himself to behave the way he used to, the way he knew Max wanted him to be. It had been hard at first. He'd buried so much of who he had been so deep, it was difficult to resurrect those parts of himself. After a while, he started getting better at it. It made things easier, too, when he started acting that way. Then she didn't pressure him so much to talk about things he didn't want to talk about.

When he couldn't handle dealing with anyone else, much less himself, he retreated into the bedroom. Max had surprised him by not following. She allowed him that one space where she wouldn't push. The fact that she had allowed him that space was the only reason it had taken so long for him to end up where he was right now, sitting on the roof with a gun in his hand.

He'd had the gun since the first night Max left him alone, when she went out to earn some cash playing pool. He remembered how she had come out of the bathroom, looking like _that_. All curves and leather--lust personified. He'd felt something pushing at him then, something terribly uncomfortable that scared the hell out of him. He'd tried to distract himself with television, but soon found himself fidgeting, unable to pay attention to the screen. When TV didn't work, he began pacing, wearing a path in the already threadbare carpet as he bit his fingernails. But still, he couldn't get rid of that uncomfortable pressure.

A couple of hours later, it had finally sent him running from the room, heading down to the floor below. Several nights before he had heard through the floor the occupant in the apartment below talking to one of his buddies about his grandfather's gun, which had been left to him when the old man died. Alec silently broke in and methodically searched the apartment until he found what he was looking for, while the occupant slept in blissful ignorance. He'd taken the gun, and a small box of bullets, and hidden it in the box spring of the bed. He hadn't planned on ending it that night, he just felt that he needed _something_... just in case.

He had tried to sleep, but he just tossed and turned on the bed. It freaked him out so much that night, thinking of the cold metal underneath him, so close, that he'd left the bedroom and watched TV until he had passed out from exhaustion.

Sometimes, when he would go into the bedroom, he would take the gun out and stare at it, contemplating possibilities. The door wasn't locked, sometimes wasn't even shut. She could've walked in at any moment and caught him with it. He figured he did it because part of him _wanted_ her to catch him, so she could take it away and it wouldn't be there, tempting him.

The gun called to him at odd moments. While he was eating breakfast. When he was watching TV. In the middle of arguing with Max. There was no pattern to its pull. He would just suddenly find himself thinking of it. He could almost hear it whisper to him: _You can make the pain go away. You can make it all go away. All you have to do is pull the trigger. _

Alec felt like he was being torn in two. Part of him wanted to listen to that call, to take the easy way out, end it all in a flash of gunpowder. But another part of him knew the bitter truth--he was a coward.

Alec McDowell, X5-494, genetically engineered super soldier, was afraid to die.

Out of all of the things he had faced in his life, death was the one thing that truly scared him. Though he wasn't raised to believe in a higher power, or the continuation of the soul--Manticore had frowned on faith in anything but their own authority--Alec sometimes wondered if there was some truth in what so many ordinaries believed. He had done so many horrible things in his life. If the soul did go somewhere after death… well, he wasn't in any hurry to find out where his was going.

These two parts of himself were at war. The part that wanted to end it all had everything that he had locked away on its side. Had Manticore on its side. The part that wanted to stay had Max. He couldn't understand why she was still with him, why she had given up her whole life for him. Out of an overriding sense of guilt, maybe? Some, stupid, half-baked sense of right and wrong? Somehow, it seemed more than that. He didn't like to think about it, because he was afraid he might already know the truth. That was one truth that he could just not deal with.

Max was a force to be reckoned with, but she couldn't outweigh the things he had buried inside, especially when she kept trying to dig them out. And she knew just where to dig.

Psy Ops. He would not relive what had happened to him back then. No fuckin' way. He had barely lived through it the first time. She didn't--_couldn't_--understand, and by pushing, she was unwittingly helping to tip the scales in the wrong direction.

Alec did not want to die. But there was a part of him that no longer knew how to _live_, and that part was growing, continually threatening to take him over. He tried to fight that part of himself, but he was beginning to lose the battle.

Maybe Max was right and it was because he wouldn't talk about it. He didn't care. He'd rather eat a bullet than talk about it.

So he tried a bit harder. He shaved off the beard, cut the hair--trying to transform himself physically as well as mentally. It seemed to be working, too. She'd actually made him laugh that night. He hadn't been faking it. That moment had given him hope. Maybe it _was_ working. Maybe the line between reality and make-believe could blur, and he _could_ become the man he once was.

He could have gone on like that, even with that damn voice in his head that still would not shut up--_he knew he was a killer, he didn't need a fuckin' voice in his head reminding him of it_--if he hadn't woken up to find her in his arms.

Max's body had been so wonderfully warm against his. He could feel the strength in the arm that was wrapped around him. It seemed a contradiction that such strength could be hiding under that smooth, soft skin. Her hair was silk against his chest. Her scent was intoxicating. It wasn't covered up by perfumes or lotions; it was just _Max_. She was like something out of a dream. It seemed so unreal, he was sure that it _was _a dream.

And then she sighed. Her warmth breath blew across his skin, and it felt like a billion neurons in his brain self-destructed. His heart flopped like a fish in his chest, and he forgot the right way to breathe. A pressure welled up in him, ballooning until he thought it would surely burst and he would explode into a million tiny pieces. Against his will, he began to feel. And something inside of him broke.

Alec had not allowed himself to feel anything for so long. Those eight months he had been gone, he had done so many horrible things, and he hadn't allowed himself to feel any of it. But it was there, under the surface, waiting. When he had finally broken down, the night he had smashed his own hand trying to escape, he had felt it all. Everything he had done--everything he should have felt back then but hadn't--washed over him. The horror of what he had done was too much to bear, so he had walled everything up inside to save his sanity.

It had worked. The flood of emotions had been dammed up, kept at bay behind a barrier of pure will. But that one moment, with Max in his arms, undid everything he had tried so hard to keep locked up inside of him. He wasn't able to pick and choose; he couldn't feel something for her without feeling the rest. The flicker of emotion that had burst free when he found Max in his arms had created a small crack in the barrier. He could feel that crack getting larger, causing other cracks, as everything he had tried to contain pushed at it, forcing its way through. It was only a trickle, but he could feel it threatening to become a powerful flood.

He'd left the room, closing the door behind him, needing to separate himself from the woman that had triggered the fractures. But that wasn't far enough, so he'd ran. Barefoot, in nothing but his sweatpants, he'd ran out of the apartment, away from her. Out into the night.

He found himself on the beach. He ran in the cool sand, along the surf, faster and faster until he became a blur. He thought maybe he would just keep running. Never come back. Never have to face her again. But try as he might, he couldn't outrun what was inside of him. He found himself slowing, and eventually came to a stop, miles from the apartment. He had stood there for a while, staring at the surf as if he might find some answer there, but the sea kept its own council.

Max wasn't the problem. _He_ was. He couldn't run from himself.

So he went back, and pretended that nothing had happened. Made breakfast, even. He did what he'd done back at Manticore. At Manticore, they were looking for the perfect soldier, so that was what he gave them. When he gave them that, they left him alone. With Max, she was looking for smart Alec, so he threw everything he had back into being the man he once was, giving her exactly what she wanted. She wasn't so easily satisfied as Manticore, which said a lot about Max, but he was able to distract her, for the most part.

He was no longer able to distract himself.

Every moment he could feel the things he'd locked up inside pushing at him. Cracks kept appearing in the dam. He'd plug one leak, but two more would appear to take its place. He was starting to lose it. Not that Max could tell. He made sure to keep everything locked down so tightly, nothing escaped. He knew that she thought he was starting to get better. But _he_ knew that every moment since he had found her in his arms had been a lie.

He had known that he couldn't hold on much longer. He couldn't hold his feelings at bay, hold all those memories at bay. It was all going to break free. He couldn't deal with that…

_emotions are the enemy_

…there was too much…

_killer_

… and he was becoming more afraid of what would happen when his barriers broke down than he was afraid of death. The last time those barriers had been in danger of crashing down, he'd hurt her, almost killed her. He couldn't let that happen again. So he'd done what he'd done back in Manticore. He gave her what she wanted. Then he waited for his opportunity to end it.

And waited.

After a few days, he realized that he had been avoiding every opportunity to be alone. He became Max's shadow. If she went out for coffee or groceries or even a little fresh air, he went with her. He even talked to her while she was in the shower, because even that short time alone made him uneasy.

He was stalling. Because he was afraid.

_Fucking coward. You're a killer. __**Be**__ a killer._

That goddamn voice. Ghosts of Manticore. Always there, egging him on. Reminding him of why he had made the decision to end it in the first place.

The moment finally came, when Max said she was hungry and wanted to go out. He had almost wavered, almost stood up to go with her, but she was staring down at him, with that expectant look on her face, like she wanted something from him, something more than just his company… something he couldn't give. He felt another crack in the barrier, felt it tremble and threaten to give way completely.

He had to finish it.

He sent her off to that little Mexican place, knowing that it would take some time, knowing--_fucking coward that he was_--that he would need that time to work up the courage to pull the trigger. He waited a minute, until he heard her start down the stairs, then went into the bedroom to retrieve the gun. He grabbed the box of bullets, carefully pulling out six. He only needed one, but Manticore had trained him to be thorough.

He thought about taking care of it right then and there. Put the barrel into his mouth, angle it just right so the bullet would burn through his brain, not just blow out the back of his throat. But he didn't want Max to come in and find him like that, blood and brains splattered all over the bed, without any kind of warning. He couldn't do that to her. He shoved the gun into the waistband of his jeans, at the small of his back, then shoved the bullets into his pocket.

He moved into the kitchen. He looked around for a moment, then grabbed the mostly empty box of cereal that Max had left sitting on the counter in her search for food. He pulled out the plastic bag inside, dropping it on the floor, then ripped the box apart, pulling away one panel that he could use to write on.

He dug around in the drawers until he found a pen, then used the blank inside of the cereal box to write her a note.

He wrote fast, words pouring out of him so rapidly that he wasn't entirely sure what he was writing. He finished, then folded the cardboard over itself so it created a kind of envelope. He wrote her name in big, bold letters on the top, hands shaking as he penned MAX. He straightened, then took his note and moved over to the kitchen table, carefully placing it in the center.

He thought at first to go someplace where Max wouldn't find him. But the more he thought about it, about how she had searched for him for eight months, never giving up, he knew that he couldn't do it. He would go somewhere that she would be able to find him, so that she could deal with it and move on with her life.

He went to the fire escape, then climbed up to the place he knew Max would end up eventually. She'd always had a thing for high places. He walked deliberately across the roof, feeling the rain soak into his hair. Damn, he hated rain. He always figured the aversion came from a little too much cat DNA in his cocktail. Considering what he was about to do, though, it was probably fitting. It seemed wrong somehow to kill yourself on a nice sunny day when the birds were chirping. He went to the center of the roof, sat down on the edge of an air conditioning unit, and began to load the gun.

He didn't look up when he heard her feet land on the roof, when he heard her breath catch in her throat. _Goddammit_. He slid the bullets in, one by one, then slammed the cylinder home. He flipped off the safety. _Sonofabitch_. How the fuck had she known?

He couldn't do anything right. Not even this. _He _was the one that should have known. Once a screw up, always a screw up. He blew out a puff of air in disgust and shook his head.

"_Figures_."

Alec closed his eyes, resigning himself to the fight he knew was coming.

* * *

_No.No.No.No.No.No.No.No._

_This isn't happening, it doesn't make sense, he's been better, a lot better, he's almost been like himself, no, no, there's an explanation, there's gotta be, he's not gonna do this, he doesn't really mean it, he's not gonna do it, no, no, no,no,no..._

Max's heart--once it began to beat again--raced, and her mind kept pace with it. Dozens of thoughts blurred through her head, each a denial of what was happening. She blinked, but it didn't change what she saw in front of her. She dug her stubby fingernails into her hands, but she didn't wake from the nightmare.

"What the hell are you doing?" she managed to get out in a gasp. She wanted him to laugh it off, to provide some sort of explanation that made sense, because this could just not be happening.

Alec raised his head. His eyes were closed, but then he opened them slowly and met her gaze. She saw nothing but resignation there. "You _know _what," he replied.

Max felt a stab of pain, reminded of Ben. That time when Ben had said _you __**know **__why _in the exact same tone Alec had just used, the final word the only difference. Things had ended badly, then. She had lost her brother, but she would not lose Alec. She would not lose the man she loved.

She had thought he had been getting better. She knew he still had a ways to go, that he needed to talk about what had happened to him before he could truly begin to heal, but she had never expected _this_. She had been afraid that he would leave her, but that had been in the physical sense. She had thought that he would take off like he had before, disappear so that she would never find him again. But she hadn't thought he would do _this_.

How could she have allowed him to fool her like that? It had all been a ruse. He had been putting on a show, placating her with his always-all-right facade. And she had allowed it. She felt anger--frantic, crazy anger--boiling up inside.

She was mad. At him, for wanting to leave her. For fucking _lying_ to her. At herself, for not seeing what was right in front of her face. More like _refusing_ to see it. She'd seen the signs, but she'd ignored them. The way he kept changing the subject. That faraway look he sometimes got, when he thought she wasn't looking. She'd wanted so badly for him to be all right, that she'd let him fool her into thinking he kind of was. But he wasn't all right. Not at all.

She was so angry and so scared out of her fuckin' mind that she lashed out at him. Anger was so much easier than fear.

"What, you're just gonna give up? Take the easy way out?" she said, the pitch of her voice escalating. "I didn't think you were a _coward_." The last word was spat out with disgust.

Alec almost flinched at the word _coward_, but refused to show any sign of weakness. He'd had much the same thoughts himself, but for the opposite reason. He had thought himself a coward for being afraid of death, and now Max thought he was a coward because he had finally decided to embrace it. Maybe the fucking irony of it would kill him, and he wouldn't have to waste a bullet.

He could feel Max's anger pouring off her in waves, and it affected him. He felt his own anger rise in response, much as it always had when dealing with her. She always had to make things difficult for him. Always had to butt in where she wasn't wanted. He had taken enough of her shit.

"I don't have to explain myself to you," Alec hissed, coming to his feet, gun held down at his side.

Max surged forward to plant herself right in front of him. She stared up at him, cheeks flushed red with anger. Rain ran down her face, and her hair had already become plastered to her head. The first bolt of lightning flashed, followed by a rumble of thunder.

"Well, I think you do!" Max countered, arms rigid with hands clenched into tight fists at her sides.

Alec drew his head back and looked down at her with disdain. "Don't really give a fuck what you think, Max. So, I'm a coward. So the fuck what? It's not like..." He trailed off. He wasn't going to get into this with her. Why should he explain? She wouldn't understand, anyway. He wasn't going to give her a chance to talk him out of it. "You know what? Forget it. We are not having this discussion."

Alec started to push past Max, planning to leave the roof, go somewhere else and do what he had to do. He was jerked to a halt as Max grabbed his arm to stop him.

"The hell we aren't!" Max cried out, her voice escalating. It was starting to rain harder, but the cold needles assaulting her skin were nothing compared to the ice-cold panic seeping through her body.

Alec jerked his arm roughly out of her grasp.

_She's in your way. Collateral damage. _

Alec ground his teeth and told the fucker in his head to shut up. He was not going to hurt Max. Not again. His desire to protect her ungrateful ass was a big part of why he had to do this in the first place. Everything seemed to circle back to Max.

Damn her.

"Oh, yeah. I forgot," Alec replied, his voice becoming cold and mocking. "Everything's about what _you _want. You're such a selfish, self-centered bitch, Max." He saw her draw her head back, affronted and a little hurt. He refused to let that affect him, and glared at her. "Don't pretend that your little mission to save me is about _me. _It's about _you_. It's always been about _you_--your responsibility, your guilt. I never wanted you to come find me. I never wanted to see you again. But here you are, fuckin' with what's left of my life because you think _you _know what's best for me! Who cares what I want, right?!"

Max wanted to explain. She wanted to tell him how much she needed him, how much she loved him, beg him not to leave her, but how could she do that now? Then it would be about _her_ feelings again, not his.

If love was selfish, then she was indeed a selfish bitch. She needed him, and she would not let him kill himself, no matter what he wanted. She valued his life, even if he did not.

"You can't tell me you want _this_," Max pleaded, eyes darting to the gun.

Alec's face was like stone, the rivulets of rain running down it highlighted as lightning flashed. "Yes. I can." Each word was clipped, brutally enunciated. He paused, considering her, then added quietly. "You promised you'd let me go, Max."

Max's face crumpled in a you've-got-to-be-kidding-me look. "I didn't mean like this!"

"You _promised_," Alec repeated, insistent.

He saw something shift in Max's eyes. She was finally figuring out that he meant to go through with it. Along with that realization came blame. God, everything _did _have to be about her, didn't it? Even his decision to end it had somehow become her fault. He heaved a sigh of exasperation. Couldn't she just go away? Couldn't she see that he didn't want to be saved?

"Look, Max, it's not your fault, okay? None of this is your fault. You did your best. I'm just fucked up in the head. That's all there is to it." He gestured dramatically with his free hand. "I absolve you of any guilt you may feel in anything in relation to me. You can go running back to Logan."

"Goddammit, Alec, I don't wanna go back to Logan!" Max hissed. Why the hell was he bringing up Logan? Was he fucking blind?! Didn't he notice that she'd been here, with _him_, for six fucking weeks? Hadn't they slept in the same goddamn bed?!

Alec pursed his lips in smug condescension. "Sure you do. It's what you've always wanted, right? To be normal? Have a family? So go back to Logan. Go do the picket fence and the 2.5 kids thing. Go live your life, pretend to be something you're not. I'm done."

Max shook her head vehemently. "No! I will not accept that." A loud crack of thunder made the building tremor beneath their feet.

Alec's voice began to rise in pitch as he argued with her. "It's not for you to accept! It's just the way it's gotta be!"

"That's bullshit!"

"What the fuck do you know?! Think you're so goddamn smart. You have no fuckin' clue what I'm dealing with. You don't know what's going on in here," he yelled, jabbing his finger hard into his temple.

"That's because you keep shutting me out!" Max could feel that she was beginning to lose it. Her words were starting to crack under the pressure, as much as her mind was.

Alec leaned in to loom over her, and she involuntarily leaned back. "You ever think that's 'cause I _want_ you out?" he growled, taking his voice down an octave.

Max stood there gaping, unable to reply to that. It hurt too much.

Alec's eyes narrowed, and it was raining so hard now that water was dripping off of his nose and chin. "Now, just get the hell out of here and let me do what I've gotta do."

"I'm not just gonna walk away and let you _kill_ yourself!!" Max cried, her tone bordering on hysteria.

"Fine! Then stand right there and _watch_!"

"_FINE!_" Max yelled back, crossing her arms. She didn't think he really wanted to do it. Nothing else was working, so she would have to call his bluff. Because it _was_ a bluff. Had to be.

Max glared at him, trying to burn a hole in him with her eyes. He glared right back. He recognized the determination in her eyes; it matched the determination in his own. She wasn't going to leave.He refused to give way.

Stalemate.

_Just do it. It'll all be over, and the pain will go away_.

Alec clenched his teeth--so hard that he probably wore off a layer of enamel--as the damn internal monologue started up again. He'd made his decision. Couldn't it give him a fuckin' break?

He put the barrel of the gun under his chin. He had planned to put it into his mouth, but the whole clenched teeth thing forestalled that. He cocked the hammer, cursing himself that his hand was not entirely steady. Now all he had to do was pull the trigger.

Alec locked his eyes onto Max's. She had such beautiful, dark brown eyes. Rain clung to her eyelashes in tiny, jeweled accents that glittered at every flash of lightning. Those eyes would be the last thing he ever saw.

He figured it wasn't a bad way to go out.

He took a deep breath through his nose, teeth still clenched tightly with resolve. He held his breath and felt the last beats of his heart. He silently begged Max to forgive him for what he was about to do, then closed his eyes and squeezed the trigger.

* * *

Max was vibrating with tension, and her heart was pounding so fast that she could hardly distinguish one beat from another. He'd stuck the gun under his chin, had cocked the hammer. His finger was on the trigger. All it would take would be a little pressure... 

She saw something in his eyes, a silent plea that sent a bolt of pain arrowing through the center of her chest. As his eyes fell closed, eyelashes damp with rain, her own eyes widened, and she thought _Christ, he's gonna do it. He's gonna pull the trigger_.

Time slowed, as her entire focus narrowed to Alec's hand on that gun. She stopped breathing, didn't blink. She saw movement in the muscles of his hand, saw the hammer begin to move as Alec's finger started to pull the trigger.

He was going to kill himself. Right in front of her.

Something in her snapped, and time surged ahead. She blurred forward, wrapping both hands around his wrist and yanking backwards with all her might. Alec's eyes shot open, but it was too late to stop what he had started. The gun went off right next to her left ear, so close that she could feel the passing of the bullet, and her head rung with the echoing sound.

The storm above them raged on, thunder masking the report of the shot; no one would come to investigate the sound.

They both stood, frozen, wide eyes staring at each other as rain poured down their faces. Max's hands were still wrapped around Alec's wrist. Alec's free hand had automatically come up to grab one of Max's wrists when she grabbed him. They were both breathing hard, and it was the only motion either of them made. They were living, breathing statues, locked in a moment in time.

Then a streak of lightning split the sky, followed hard upon by a crack of thunder so loud their eardrums rattled. The storm was upon them.

The sound was like a trigger, prompting both of them to action. They struggled over the gun, each trying to gain the upper hand. Alec then tried to wrench his wrist out of her grasp, but Max went with his motion, throwing her entire body weight into it, at the same time hooking a foot behind his to unbalance him. They both went crashing to the ground, Alec landing hard on his back with a splash, Max landing on top of him. Alec lost his grip on the gun, and it went skittering along the rooftop, coming to rest against the low ledge of the building.

Alec and Max paused, Max still lying on top of Alec. They both looked to where the gun had come to rest, with identical looks of need on their faces, though for different reasons. They shifted their gaze at the same time, and they stared each other down for two heartbeats, three, four… and once again, they sprang into action.

Max flipped forward off of Alec, somersaulting over his head to her feet. She began to run toward the gun, determined to get to it and keep it from Alec. But Alec was just as determined. Before she could take two steps, he rolled over and snagged her ankle, jerking hard and sending her crashing to the ground, water flying as she skidded with her forward momentum.

Alec surged to his feet and tried to move past her, but she kicked out in a wide arc. He avoided that blow by leaping into the air, but as he came down, Max whirled around and caught him with the other leg, sending him to the ground once more.

They both rolled and came to their feet in a crouch, gauging each other. Neither was willing to give ground. The transgenics rose slowly, lighting flashing once more as they took up fighting stances. Max stood between him and the gun. Her eyes hardened, and her fists clenched tighter. If he wanted to kill himself, it was gonna be over her dead body.

As Alec planted his feet into a fighting stance, memories assaulted him. Other fights, from other times. He blinked several times and his head jerked involuntarily to the left, but the assault continued. It seemed like a hundred images flashed through his mind in a second: training at Manticore, fighting Max in Logan's apartment, his fights at the club, broken bones and snapping necks and blood…

_killer_

No, he could do this. Fight her. He could control it. He just had to get her in a position that he could knock her out, or at least disable her for a few minutes. He only needed a minute. He didn't have to be a killer. He could get to the gun, finish it, and he wouldn't be a threat to anyone, ever again.

_killerrrrrrrrr_….

Alec screamed to silence the voice in his head, and launched himself at her.

They met in the middle of the roof, in a crash that rivaled the storm around them. There was a flurry of blows, punches and kicks, blocked or dodged. Alec, due to sheer weight advantage, had strength on his side, but Max's speed countered that, and they found themselves evenly matched.

Alec kept trying to maneuver past her, to get to the gun, and she had to work hard to keep herself between it and him. At one point, he had almost reached it, had crouched down to grab it. Max sacrificed tactical advantage to kick it, sending it skittering away from him once more. She paid for it, as he leaned to the side and kicked up, catching her in the gut and sending her flying backward. She rolled backward as she landed, pushing up immediately and diving back into the fray. She couldn't afford to take a second to catch her breath. Any hesitation and she could lose Alec.

He was already moving toward the other side of the roof, where she had kicked the gun. Max blurred to catch up to him, jumping up on one of the air conditioning units, then leaping from there to flip over Alec's head to once again plant herself between him and the gun.

Alec rolled his eyes in frustration. He didn't want to hurt her, but she just wouldn't give up. Why couldn't she see that this was the only way?

Alec blurred toward her, launching a flying kick at her as he closed in. Max flipped backwards out of the way, coming to land on the ledge of the roof. Alec leapt up beside her, then immediately crouched to avoid a roundhouse punch that would have sent him crashing back onto the rooftop. He surged upward and grabbed her arm, intending to spin her and pull her close so he could put a sleeper hold on her. She went with his pull, cartwheeling over him to land behind him on the ledge. He spun, turning just in time to block another blow.

They threw themselves into another series of attacks, fighting as if they were standing on the wide expanse of the roof instead of its narrow ledge. The danger of their situation did not deter them. They jumped and kicked and spun, feet landing nimbly each time, giving proof of their feline DNA. They didn't miss a step.

That is, until the ledge crumbled under Max's feet.

Max had jumped backwards to avoid a sweeping kick. As she landed, she heard a crack, and the concrete ledge under her split and began to tilt. The rain-slickened surface allowed her no purchase, and she found herself sliding toward open sky. The concrete fell out from under her, and suddenly there was nothing but air beneath her. It was a four-story drop; she thought that it probably wouldn't kill her, if she landed right, but she was definitely going to break a few bones. She couldn't help but let out a scream as she began to fall.

Her scream was cut off abruptly as she jerked to a halt, her left arm jolting in the socket. She looked down, and found herself dangling four stories up, held by an iron band around her wrist. The concrete smashed into the ground below, breaking into small pieces. She breathed rapidly, as she stared down at the smashed pieces. That could have been her. She finally looked up, blinking against the rain. The iron band around her wrist was Alec's hand. Her eyes traveled up the arm connected to that hand. He was lying flat on the ledge, eyes wide. He had thrown himself down on the narrow ledge and caught her before he could fall.

He had saved her. He could have let her fall and finish what he had started. She would have been out of the way. But he hadn't let her fall. He had saved her.

Alec's brow furrowed and he grunted with exertion as he began to pull her up. When she was close enough, she grabbed onto the ledge in front of him, helping him lever her up. They struggled in silence, the occasional grunt the only sound, until Alec rolled off the ledge, pulling her with him. The roll ended with Alec landing on the rooftop with a light thud, followed a half a second later by Max landing on top of him.

Max let her head fall forward on to his chest. Her whole body shook from the overload of adrenalin, and her breaths came fast and hard. She felt Alec's chest rapidly rising and falling beneath her as his body fought for oxygen. Her palms, flat on his chest, felt the pounding of his heart. His hands were flat on her back. The position would have almost been intimate, if not for the dire situation.

When Max's tremors eased, she pushed against Alec's chest, levering herself up until she could see his face. Her wet hair hung down, dripping water on him. She looked down into hazel green eyes that stared back up at her. She swallowed hard and whispered, "Thank you."

Alec's eyes softened, and he answered quietly, "You're welcome."

Max thought they had averted disaster, that the fight was over and they had reached an understanding. But then she saw his eyes shift to the right. She followed his gaze, transgenic eyesight zooming in. There, lying in a puddle at the bottom of an air conditioning unit, was the gun.

Max turned her eyes back to him just in time to see his hand come up, attempting to chop her on the side of the head to knock her unconscious. She shoved herself off him just in time, no time for grace of movement, and she went flying backward to land on her ass. Alec rolled to his feet, then sped toward the gun. Max took one second to loose a frustrated scream as she slammed a palm down on the rooftop, sending water splashing. Then she was up and after him.

Her superior speed allowed her to catch up with him before he reached the gun. She surged forward, leaping to tackle him and sending them both skidding along the rooftop, water flying once more. Max was the first to regain her feet, and once again she placed herself between Alec and the gun. She raised her fists, panting, and braced herself for another onslaught.

"You're gonna have to go through me," she managed to get out between panting breaths. She widened her stance and bent her knees to lower her center of gravity as she felt her body threatening to waver.

Alec rose slowly to his feet. He watched her, standing between him and the gun, his unwanted guardian angel. He'd already hurt her. Her lip was split, there were several other cuts and scrapes, and she had the beginnings of what looked like one hell of a black eye. He had thought that nothing would sway him from bringing an end to the travesty that his life had become. As he watched her once more place herself between him and the means of his destruction, he began to question just how far he was willing to go.

He had already come so far. There was no turning back now.

"Sorry, Maxie," he whispered, then launched himself at her.

Prior to this point, if anyone had been watching them, they would have known that Max and Alec were something different. Something special. They moved with a grace that went beyond human ability, fought with fluid movements that belied their humanity. But this time, their moves were frantic, both of them reaching a level of desperation that made them rely not on skill, but on emotion. Blood flew, watered down by the rain. Lightning flashed, making the fight a collection of freeze-frame images.

Alec cried out as Max connected with a kick to his leg. It buckled beneath him, and he crashed to one knee. Max froze, flashing back to Ben in the woods, helpless on the ground, his leg broken. Alec caught that look in her eye, and hesitated for a brief second, frowning. Then he took his opportunity and surged to his feet, executing a spinning kick. He had expected her to block, and hadn't pulled back at all, but she just stood there, and then it was too late to pull back as his foot connected with her ribs.

Max flew backwards, body spinning during its flight. She landed hard on her side and skidded, sending water fanning out from her in a wave. Her body came to a sudden halt as it crashed into the roof's ledge, and she cried out as a flare of sharp pain surged through her entire midsection.

Alec stood unsteadily, staring at her on the other side of the roof. She tried to get up, arms trembling until they buckled, sending her collapsing against the rooftop. She managed to raise her head slightly, then spat out a mouthful of blood.

Alec's hands fisted, and his teeth ground together as he resisted the urge to go to her and see if she was okay. He deliberately turned his back, because he couldn't bear to see what he had done to her. He hobbled over to the gun, left knee threatening to buckle at each step. When he reached it, he tried to crouch down to get it, but his knee gave way, and he landed in a heap on the rooftop. He pushed his back against the air conditioning unit, since he was pretty sure that he wouldn't be able to stay upright any other way. With one leg bent at the knee, and his wounded leg splayed straight out in front of him, he slowly reached for the gun.

He had to do it. There was no other way. He couldn't go on like this.

It had to end.

* * *

Max saw Alec reach for the gun. She managed to prop herself up on one arm, though her side flared with pain. Blood kept filling her mouth from a cut inside her cheek. She tried to get her legs under her, but her body refused to cooperate any longer. It'd had enough. 

"Don't do this," she pleaded, voice wavering as her body trembled. She tried to get up once more, had actually managed to lever herself a foot off the ground, before she collapsed once more. "Alec, _please!_" she sobbed, unable to do anything but beg.

Lightning flashed once more, followed a few seconds later by a rumble of thunder. The storm was moving off.

Alec leaned hard against the air conditioning unit, gun in hand. His eyes burned, and it wasn't because of the wind and rain. Max's sobbing plea had torn through his chest, leaving what felt like an open wound. The gun trembled in his hand.

_Do it._

Much as they had the night he'd had his hand around Max's throat, memories flashed through his mind. His life thus far. Max featured in so many of those memories, both good and bad.

_Just do it._

He had made a decision then to be the man he wanted to be, instead of the man they had made him to be. Somehow, he had forgotten that.

_Pull the fucking trigger!_

"No," Alec whispered in defiance. He clicked on the safety and let the gun drop. He ran a hand through his wet hair, slicking it back, then ground the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to stop the tears that threatened to come. "Damn you, Max."

Max saw Alec drop the gun, and she collapsed completely, her muscles suddenly jelly. She was hyperventilating, unable to believe that it was over.

They stayed that way for a while, Max in a heap against the roof ledge, Alec leaning heavily against the air conditioning unit. Then, finally, Max gathered her strength and managed to get up. She shuffled over to him, arm held tight against her chest to protect her side, which was screaming with pain. She came to a stop in front of him and tried to sit down, but it was more like she fell down. She ended up on the ground in the space between his legs, leaning against his bent leg for support. In the back of her mind, she noticed how he kept that leg rigid to help support her. The rest of her was overcome with relief that he was sitting there in front of her, still breathing, heart still beating.

Alec removed his hands from his eyes, and let his arms fall to rest bonelessly at his sides. His head hung down, unable to look at Max, ashamed of what he had tried to do... ashamed of everything he had ever done. How was he ever going to deal with this? He couldn't hold everything in for much longer, but he couldn't end it either. He couldn't ignore Max's plea. When he spoke, the tone of his voice betrayed his fear.

"I can't take back what I've done, and I don't know how to live with it anymore."

Max felt the pain and defeat in his voice as if it were her own. "Then talk to me, Alec. Let me help you," she pleaded.

Alec let his head fall back, smacking it against the air conditioning unit behind him. _Talk, talk, talk. Doesn't she get that I don't want to fucking __**talk **__about it?! I just want it to be __**over! **_He made a frustrated noise, then lowered his head so he could meet her eyes. "Why can't you just let me go?"

_Because I love you._ _Because I can't live my life without you_. How much could she risk telling him?

She reached forward to wrap her hand about his, encouraged when he did not pull away. "Because you're important to me," she said softly.

Alec looked down, bottom lip jutting out slightly, suddenly sullen. "I don't wanna be."

Max smiled slightly at the petulance in his voice. She reached forward and ran her other hand though his hair, then wrapped it around the back of his neck, over his barcode. She leaned forward and put her forehead to his.

"Too late for that."

* * *

A/N: Alec is saved! (_At least for now_.) I hope everyone enjoyed the action in this chapter, because it is not an easy thing to write. Did it work for you? Please review and let me know your opinion. 


	15. Catharsis

Gone

By Inzane

Disclaimer: Oh, if only I owned Dark Angel...

Summary: How much abuse can a guy take before he snaps? Events in Hello, Goodbye take a different turn. AU from that point.

A/N: I have taken liberties with the medical stuff once again. Please have your grain of salt prepared. Also, sorry for the delay in updating, but I had a nasty little affliction called _writer's block_. The horror!

It's another long one, people, which hopefully makes up for the delay. Plan accordingly.

Warning: I have a propensity for bad language and big words.

* * *

Chapter 15: Catharsis 

_Previously_

Alec let his head fall back, smacking it against the air conditioning unit behind him. _Talk, talk, talk. Doesn't she get that I don't want to fucking __**talk**__ about it?! I just want it to be __**over! **_He made a frustrated noise, then lowered his head so he could meet her eyes. "Why can't you just let me go?"

_Because I love you. Because I can't live my life without you. _How much could she risk telling him?

She reached forward to wrap her hand about his, encouraged when he did not pull away. "Because you're important to me," she said softly.

Alec looked down, bottom lip jutting out slightly, suddenly sullen. "I don't wanna be."

Max smiled slightly at the petulance in his voice. She reached forward and ran her other hand though his hair, then wrapped it around the back of his neck, over his barcode. She leaned forward and put her forehead to his.

"Too late for that."

* * *

For a moment, Max's touch was a panacea for everything that was wrong with him. With her hand on the back of his neck, her forehead pressed to his, and her weight learning against his leg, he forgot everything that had brought them to this point. He didn't think. He didn't feel. He just _was_. All that existed for him was Max's touch, and in that touch, he found acceptance. 

But it only lasted for a moment. Exhaustion, both physical and mental, overcame him, and the leg Max was leaning against shifted. The motion jarred Max's injured side, and she let out a whimper of pain. The sound shot through him, echoing in his brain. The spell was broken.

A crushing anxiety rose up from the center of his chest and burned through his whole body. Memories their fight assaulted him: the gun going off next to Max's ear; Max falling, her scream piercing through him; Max failing to block his kick and flying across the rooftop; Max struggling to get up, begging him not to pull the trigger.

He could have killed her. Almost had.

And yet here she was, sitting with him on a rooftop in the rain. Bleeding and broken, yet so damn accepting of who and what he was.

_Killer..._

Yes, a killer. He was a killer, and Max knew it. She had seen it. And somehow, she could live with it, accept it, even when he could not.

What the hell was she doing, wasting her life on someone as worthless as him? Why would she do something like that?

Even as he asked himself the question, he knew the answer. The answer lay in the gentle fingers on his neck, in the trails of moisture running down Max's face that he knew wasn't rain.

No. No, that _couldn't _be it. She was in love with Logan. He _needed _her to be in love with Logan.

He knew Max cared about him. She had said that he was important to her--and he knew this to be true--but so were Joshua and Original Cindy. He was her friend. That was all there was to it. He _needed _that to be all there was to it, because anything else went beyond what he was able to accept. Anything else would bring his barriers crashing down once and for all, destroying him in the wake of their passing.

It had been so much easier when she had hated him. Hate was a powerful force, but it was easily deflected or ignored. Hate was something he could understand.

There was something else he understood, with perfect clarity. Something he had learned a long time ago, as he broke down at the bedside of a sweet, young girl wasting away in a coma.

Love was the most destructive force of all.

A tremor ran through Alec's body as he tried to push these unwanted thoughts away. He couldn't do it. His barriers were too damaged, and there was too much there already threatening to break free. He decided on a different tact: if you can't deal with it, deny it.

Max was his friend. She wanted to help him, as a friend. She was in love with Logan, and when this was all over, she would go back to Logan. There was nothing behind the way Max's fingers rest softly over his barcode, nothing behind the utter desperation in her voice when she had begged him not to end his life.

Alec knew that in his absolute denial of what was right in front of him, he had become more of a coward than ever. So be it. He would rather be a coward than accept the possibility that Max was in love with him. That possibility scared the hell out of him. It involved all sorts of things that he could no longer allow himself feel. So he changed his perspective on the world around him, looking through eyes that filtered out what he didn't want to see. What it left him with was muted half-truths, but it was safe.

He drew his head back, moving away from her. She eased her grip on the back of his neck, allowing him to pull away. She winced slightly as she pulled her arm down, and leaned more heavily against his right leg. The rain continued, though it had eased from the heavy downpour that had accompanied their fight. Alec sighed and rolled his eyes.

"I really hate rain," he said in a voice weak with exhaustion.

Max half-smiled at him, her own exhaustion weighing heavy on her. "Then you shouldn't've come up here, stupid," she replied, talking about more than just the rain.

Alec grimaced. "Yeah. I guess your right," he answered back, talking about more than the rain as well.

"Of course I'm right." Max tilted her head, raising her eyebrows at him. "I'm always right," she added with a half-hearted grin.

Alec's lips quirked slightly and he hung his head. Keeping it upright was becoming difficult. He rolled it to the side so he could look at her, eyeing her battered and disheveled state. "So," he questioned, "how long do you think it'll take to get off this roof?"

Max ran her left hand through her wet hair, careful to keep her right arm still since moving it sent pain flaring through her side. She turned her head to look over at the fire escape, which--just their luck--happened to be on the side of the building furthest from them. Not only did they have to get to it, but then they had to get down it and manage to crawl inside the window somehow. Just the thought of it made Max wince.

"Dunno," she replied distractedly. She was concerned with how flat his voice had become. She needed to get him off of the roof and out of the rain. They couldn't talk about stuff out here. She glanced down at his left leg, which was splayed out straight in front on him. "Can you walk?" she asked hesitantly. Once again, an image of Ben on the forest floor flashed in her mind. She shook it to clear the image, reminding herself that this was Alec, not Ben, and Alec was still alive. She was going to do whatever it took to make sure that he stayed that way.

"Dunno," he replied, then eyed the way she was holding her right arm tightly to her side. "Can you stand?"

Max started to take in a deep breath, but cut it off abruptly when pain once again flared through her. She gritted her teeth against the pain, then replied, "Only one way to find out," around clenched teeth.

Max managed to get to her knees without too much trouble, but she had to try three times before she was able to stand. Even though she was upright, she was not entirely stable. She kept her right arm wrapped tightly around her and immobile. She glanced down at Alec, still sitting with his back against the air conditioning unit and his damaged leg straight in front of him. "Your turn," she said, and held out her left hand to him to help him up.

He stared at her hand, then up at her face, the look in his eyes saying _yeah, right_. He bent his arms to place his palms flat against the unit behind him, then pushed with his arms and his good right leg, while Max hovered over him. He managed, after some grunting and cursing, to stand.

Alec tried to take a cautious step with his wounded leg, but his knee buckled immediately. Now that the adrenalin was fading from his system, he couldn't ignore the pain as he had during the fight. Max surged forward to try to help him, but he managed to plant a hand on top of the air conditioning unit and catch himself before he fell. She was in no shape to do any catching at the moment. "Okay, standing, I can do. Walking, not so much," he said, panting slightly to help him ride through the throbbing pain in his knee.

Max moved stiffly over to him, then, before he could protest, she grabbed his arm and wrapped it around her shoulders. "Come on, you big baby."

Alec felt a small amount of relief that Max was trying to lighten the mood with their old banter. He'd had enough heavy conversation for one day. As they started to awkwardly move toward the fire escape, he was about to give her his trademark smirk, but then thought better of it. He was done pretending. "You try walking with a broken kneecap and see how you like it."

Max looked up at him, trying to appear nonchalant about it, but the little line between her brows betrayed her concern. "You think it's broken?"

Alec hobbled along, trying to put as much weight on his damaged leg as it would take so he would not overburden Max, who was obviously injured as well. As another jolt of pain went through his knee, he nodded his head and replied, "Pretty sure."

He heard Max's breath hitch in her throat. He wasn't really sure why his messed up leg was affecting her so much. It's not like it was that bad. He wouldn't even have to go to the hospital this time. Just immobilize it with a splint for about a week, and he should be good as new, thanks to his transgenic healing abilities. But after she had connected with that kick during the fight, she had frozen up. Her eyes had turned inward, and it looked like she had seen a ghost. He figured maybe bad memories had something to do with it. He knew about bad memories, so he didn't question her about it. They made the rest of the journey back to the apartment in silence.

It took them almost ten minutes to make it off of the roof and down the fire escape. When they tried to get back through the window, both of them pretty much fell in as opposed to climbed in. They helped each other up off of the floor, then, by silent agreement, hobbled into the bathroom.

Once they made it into the bathroom, Alec helped lower Max down to sit on the lid of the toilet. Then he slowly lowered himself down onto the edge of the bathtub, keeping his injured leg straight the entire time. He could tell it was swelling, and he was completely unable to bend it now. Definitely broken.

They sat there, staring at each other--bloody, bruised, and waterlogged. Each sized up the other's injuries. Alec felt guilt tug at him again as he cataloged the damage he had done to Max. It increased as he thought about why those injuries came about in the first place.

"Guess I _am _genetically predisposed to be stupid, huh?" he said quietly, looking down at the floor.

Max let out a bark of laugh, then clamped her teeth down over it. The gamut of emotions that she had experienced while on the roof had taken its toll; she once again felt herself bordering on hysteria. She was afraid that once she started laughing, she wouldn't be able to stop until she broke down completely.

As she saw Alec stare at the floor in misery, she felt a tightness in her chest to accompany the pain in her side. She so desperately wanted to offer him comfort, and in doing so, comfort herself, but she was afraid the action would not be welcomed.

She nudged his right foot with the toe of her boot, trying to get him to at least look at her. When he refused to look, just sat there in silence, she felt her shoulders sag. They may not be back to square one, but they were pretty damn close to it. When she spoke again, her voice was tired, not only from the battle, but at the prospect of the battle that she knew still lay ahead of them.

"Told you I was always right."

* * *

They sat in silence in the bathroom for almost ten minutes, letting their bodies calm from the overload of emotion and adrenalin. Their hair and clothing stuck to their skin, and now that the rain wasn't washing their blood away, several cuts bled freely. As damaged as they were, they were unconcerned, both too tired to do much else but stare off into space for a while. They might have gone on like that for another hour if a shiver hadn't run through Max's body. 

Alec's head jerked up at this, and his eyes focused. "Umm... guess we should get cleaned up and get out of these wet clothes."

Max's raised her head and looked at him blankly, having trouble getting her brain to make sense of what he was saying. God, she hurt _everywhere_.Her side in particular had become a throbbing menace that was beginning to drive her crazy. But she had to suck it up and soldier on, because Alec was hurt, and she needed to patch him up.

"You first," Max told him, looking him over with a clinical eye, trying not to think about the fact that every cut, every bruise, was her doing.

"_Max_," Alec said a protesting tone. His eyes held a strange combination of emotion that was hard to define.

"_You first_," Max repeated, insistent. She glanced down at his leg, then slowly moved her gaze up his body to his face. "Strip." When his eyes widened at this, Max pursed her lips. "Come on. I can't take a look at that leg with your pants on. And we need to get out of these wet clothes." She paused, and then raised her eyebrows at him. "Not like I haven't seen it all before, anyway," Max added.

Alec hung his head again, then nodded, unable to fault her logic. He was sure that Max had seen pretty much every inch of him that week she had kept him tied up. She handled the family jewels, for crissakes, when he had to take a piss. Probably gave him goddamn sponge baths when he was unconscious. It was stupid to be self-conscious about it now. He grabbed onto the towel rack to steady himself, then pulled himself upright, putting all of his weight on his good leg. He sucked in a deep breath, blew it out, and then pulled his soggy shirt off and let it drop to the floor. He undid the button of his cargo pants, then lowered the zipper.

He risked a quick glance at Max, and saw that she was studiously examining the floor tiles, her one hand nervously plucking at a tear in her jeans while the other was wrapped protectively around her ribs. He bent over and peeled the wet pants down his legs, the cloth making a soft sucking noise as it resisted the action. Once he got the pants down, he levered himself back down to the edge of the tub, which was made difficult due to the fact that he couldn't bend his left leg at all. He stared at his feet for a moment, realizing the difficulty he had caused himself.

"Max," he said quietly, his voice once again filled with hesitance. When she looked up, he nodded at his feet. His face had colored slightly due to the fact that he was sitting in front of Max in only his boxers, with his pants down around his ankles. "A little help?"

Max colored as well, and since Alec was filtering out the things he didn't want to deal with, he didn't pay attention to how beautiful her face looked when flushed. She moved stiffly, sliding off of the toilet lid to the floor, to kneel in front of him. She unlaced his shoes and pulled them off, then carefully pulled his pants off and tossed them aside. Alec found himself gripping the edge of the tub tightly as she did this, and he couldn't take his eyes from her.

Once Alec's left leg was exposed, Max moved in closer to examine it. She noticed Alec jerked slightly as she placed her hand lightly over to wound to feel the extent of the damage. She wasn't sure if the reaction was from pain or a reaction to her skin touching his, but she didn't want to risk thinking about that right now in her current emotionally fragile state.

She slid her hands carefully around his knee, narrowing her focus to that and only that. If she didn't stay focused, she would become distracted by the fact that Alec was sitting in front of her in nothing but damp boxer shorts that clung to his skin, leaving little to the imagination.

Okay, so she peeked a bit. What warm-blooded female wouldn't? But she definitely did not ogle.

Max gripped his leg a little too hard while attempting to get herself to refocus, and she heard him hiss in pain. Her gaze shot up to his, and she saw that he was biting his bottom lip, and his body was rigid with tension.

"Sorry," she said softly, apologizing both for what she had done and what she was about to do. She began to cautiously feel the kneecap itself to determine the severity of the break. A few seconds later, she heard the sound of fiberglass groaning under pressure. She looked up, and found Alec's fingers were clenching the tub so tightly that it was bending under the force of his grip. She turned back to his knee, trying to finish as quickly as possible to spare him any more pain.

"It's definitely broken, but seems like the break is clean. I think if we just splint it, you should be good in about a week, maybe less."

"Do it," Alec managed to get out through clenched teeth. He mentally cursed the Manticore scientists that had mixed up his genetic cocktail. He had an unusually low tolerance for pain, compared to other X-5s. It had caused him a lot of trouble throughout his life, and it was a secret he had always closely guarded. Back at Manticore, his fellow soldiers would have used it against him, and the trainers would have used it as an excuse to put him down.

He already knew he was a coward, so he figured he would add _wimp_ to his self description while he was at it. Might as well throw _lying bastard_ in there, considering how he had acted toward Max since that night he had found her in his arms. He wished Max would just cut her losses and go back to Seattle, because he was so obviously not worth all the trouble he was putting her through.

He did the smart thing and kept his thoughts to himself. He had no interest in getting into another argument right now.

Max wrenched the towel bar off of the wall, then removed the ends. She took one of the towels and ripped it into strips, then used them to quickly and efficiently splint his leg. When she was done, she moved to grab the medical supplies she had left over from when she'd had to treat the bullet wound in Alec's leg. When she turned to Alec with antiseptic and a cold, wet cloth, he grabbed her wrist to stop her.

"You don't have to do that, Max." When Max just glared at him, he swallowed hard and let go. He reminded himself that he was supposed to be avoiding an argument, and let her tend to his other wounds.

Max sat back down on the toilet lid, unable to stand any longer. With the supplies beside her on the sink top, she methodically cleaned and treated his scraped up knuckles and the cuts on his face and arms. Focusing on relieving his pain helped her to ignore her own.

She took stock of the bruises starting to form on his body. She examined him with a thoroughness that bordered on obsession, and she fell silent due to her single-minded focus. She didn't even realize it when she had finished and her hands stilled and fell to her sides. She just sat there, staring. Only when Alec raised an eyebrow at her and hesitantly called her name did she snap out of it.

"Looks like you'll be okay," she said, but the words came out unsteady. If only they were true. _He had come so close to being not okay. So close to lying dead on the roof of the apartment building, in blood and brains and Oh, God, what if he tries it again…_

Max tried to force herself to stop thinking about it. That was dangerous territory. She managed to get a hold of herself, but a single tear managed to escape and roll down her cheek.

She didn't wipe it away. Mostly because she didn't want to call attention to it with the action. A small part of her, however, _wanted_ Alec to see it. She wanted him to understand how much what he had almost done had affected her. She needed him to know how important his life was to her. Although she couldn't admit to him that she loved him, she wanted him--if even only on a subconscious level--to understand the depth of her feelings.

Max stood up, so suddenly that she swayed on her feet. Alec's hand shot out to grab her arm and steady her. "You okay?" he asked, again in that softly quiet tone his voice had taken on ever since they'd gotten off the roof.

"Fine," Max replied flatly, not looking at him. She pulled her arm away. "I'll get you some clothes." She turned her back and started to stiffly walk away.

"Wait." When she didn't stop, he called out more insistently, "_Max_."

She stopped and turned her head back toward him. "What?" she replied, a little harsher than she intended. She mentally cringed at her tone, but she was tired, she hurt all over, and she was on the verge of collapse, so she figured she had a right to be a little testy.

He shifted uncomfortably under her intense gaze. "Your turn," he said, nodding his head toward the medical supplies on the sink. His eyes, however, conveyed much more than those two words. They said _I'm sorry _and _I didn't want to hurt you _and _Let me help you _all at once.

Max's lips quirked, and she let her eyes scan up and down his body. She was obvious about it, and she could see him redden slightly under her scrutiny. "If you don't mind," she said wryly, "I'd prefer it if you weren't practically naked when you patch me up." She rolled her eyes, then left the room.

When she came back, with a large stack of clothes for both her and Alec in hand, Alec crossed his arms over his bare chest and tried--but failed miserably--to look casual. If she hadn't just finished living through the most monumentally scary moment of her life, she might have teased him about it. Alec McDowell, formerly self-proclaimed God's gift--or rather, Manticore's gift--to women, was suddenly self-conscious about his body. She stayed silent, though. She didn't care how he acted right now, as long as he kept drawing breath. She would forgive anything, accept anything, as long as he would just _stay_.

"Here," Max said, handing him some clothes from the top of the stack, then setting the rest on the sink. "I'll wait outside," she added, then quickly went to stand outside the door. She didn't close the door, because she couldn't stand to put another closed door between them.

With her back against the wall next to the bathroom door, Max listened intently to what was going on the in the bathroom. She heard the sound of wet cloth peeling away from skin, and the sound had her squeezing her eyes shut tight. She tried not to picture what that sound implied, but the thoughts were like a mental train wreck, and she couldn't turn away from them.

She was somewhat surprised that her shell-shocked brain had the energy to conjure up images of naked Alec. She was utterly unprepared for her reaction to them, and she was suddenly overcome with need. Her heart beat faster and her body tingled, as she felt warmth spread through her lower abdomen and the apex of her thighs. There was a horrible ache inside her, a desperate need to be filled combined with the knowledge that there was only one man capable of filling that need. A man she could not have. She bit her bottom lip hard to try to get a grip on herself. How could she feel like this, after what had just happened? She hurt every-damn-where, and the only thing she wanted to do right now, injuries be damned, was to go in that bathroom and jump his bones.

She already knew the answer to her question. Alec could have been dead. _She_ could have been dead. Right now, all her body wanted to do was to celebrate _life_.

Max heard the sounds of fumbling, followed by a muttered curse. She took a deep breath and rolled her eyes heavenward in an unconscious appeal for strength. "You okay in there?" she asked, and grimaced when the words came out unsteady.

There was the sound of more fumbling, followed by a growl of frustration. He was still for a moment, then he finally muttered an irritated, "No."

Max peeked her head around the corner. "What's wrong?" she asked, then held her breath as she realized how loaded that question was. There was so much that was so very wrong with him, otherwise, she wouldn't have had to practically kill herself to keep him from eating a bullet.

He was sitting on the floor, now in dry boxers, his splinted leg straight out in front of him. Therein lay the problem. Since he couldn't bend his leg, he had to pretty much bend completely in half to get the article of clothing over his foot, and the effort had used up much of his remaining energy. He looked completely wiped out.

"I... um... my leg," Alec offered as explanation. "I can't… I'm just..." He sighed and trailed off. He glanced down at his immobile leg, then at the pile of clothes, then looked up at her with a pleading look. Max sighed inwardly. He was back to communicating with as little words as possible. _Dammit_.

"You need my help?" she asked--not offering to help, but asking. She wanted to hear him say it. She wanted him to finally admit--even if it was the smallest intimation--that he needed her.

He stared at her, but she stayed where she was, silent. She held her breath, waiting for his response. _Come on, just give me this one thing. Just one little admission. A glimmer of hope. That's all I ask. _

_Please, Alec, just give me __**something**__ I can hold on to._

"Yeah," Alec said, his voice cracking on the word as he lowered his gaze once more. "_I need your help_," he added in a whisper, hands tightening into fists.

Max closed her eyes and leaned against the sink top, a small measure of relief flowing through her. Those four words conveyed so much more than a simple request. They were the admission she wanted from him, the one he had been stubbornly refusing to admit these past six weeks. If he had just allowed her to help him instead of trying to fool her with his damn always-all-right façade, maybe it wouldn't have come to the point where he felt his only option was to end it. She hoped that he was not just admitting that he needed her help, but that he was willing to accept it as well.

Max moved over to the sink and grabbed his t-shirt from the top of the pile. Alec moved his hands to the back of the tub, then grunted as he pushed himself up, struggling until he was able to stand fully upright. When she turned back to him, shirt in hand, he was directly in front of her, with those hazel-green eyes staring down into hers. He swayed slightly forward, and this time it was her turn to steady _him_. She brought her hands up against his chest to stop his forward motion, but instantly regretted it as they came in contact with his bare chest.

She swallowed hard, fighting the urge to run her hands around his back and pull him to her. She wanted so badly to wrap her arms around him and lay her head over his heart, to assure herself that it was still beating. But she couldn't do that, so she silently removed her hands and handed him his shirt. He took it from her, then shoved his arms through the holes and pulled it on over his head.

Max's heart started to pound faster. This was so different from when she had helped him change clothes before, that first week they had spent in the apartment. For one, he had been unconscious back then. His muscles hadn't flexed under smooth skin, advertising his genetic perfection. But the biggest difference was that back then, she hadn't admitted to herself that she was in love with him. Back then, every fiber of her being didn't yearn to touch, and be touched.

She was afraid that he would see, that he would fully understand the depth of her feelings for him and use them as an excuse to run... or worse. But she couldn't seem to get herself under control. What had happened on the roof had ripped her open emotionally. One wrong move, one wrong word, and she would bleed out.

She started to lower herself stiffly down to one knee, so that she could help him get his sweatpants on over his splinted leg. Max's breath caught in her throat when Alec grabbed her good arm to help lower her to the ground. She knew she shouldn't read too much into the act, but the fact that he was trying to help her made her eyes mist up. She blinked the danger of tears away, then concentrated on her task.

They completed the action as swiftly as possible, without words or eye contact. When Alec was dressed, Max stepped to the side and gestured for him to leave the room so she could change into dry clothes herself. She was sure it was going to be pure agony to try to get her jacket and shirt off, but she didn't think she could deal with Alec's hands on her.

But Alec wasn't going to give her a choice in the matter. He stood, all his weight on one leg, stubbornly refusing to move.

"Alec," she said, a warning and a command in her tone. But Alec was one of the few people that had never allowed her to bully him, and everything he had gone through had not changed that.

"Don't tell me you can do this by yourself," he said in that quiet tone that was starting to drive her mad. She stared at him, willing him to just leave the room, because she was barely holding it together, and if he touched her right now, she was afraid she just might break apart.

"This is my fault, Max," he added, so quietly that she had to strain to hear him. _"_Let me help you. I _ne_ed to help."

There was that plea in his eyes again, those wonderful green eyes full of golden facets, and she knew she would not be able to deny him. Anything he wanted of her, she would give. Anything he asked of her, she would do. Heart and soul, she belonged to him.

Even if he didn't know it.

* * *

Ever since they ended up in the bathroom, Alec had kept his focus trained on Max's injuries. He kept reminding himself that he was the cause of those injuries. She was in pain because of him. His own injuries at Max's hands were unimportant. He hadn't left her any choice in the matter. But _he'd _had a choice, and he chose to fight so he could get what he wanted. 

Maybe Max was right, and he was a coward for trying to kill himself instead of dealing with the nightmare that his life had become.

_She's in your way. It could all be over if she wasn't in your way._

Alec silently told the voice in his head to shut the fuck up. He knew it wouldn't listen--the damned voice had become his constant companion--but that didn't stop him from trying to fight it. He only wished he could find whatever it was in himself that had silenced the voice the first time around. That part of him was still missing somewhere, buried under too many things that he couldn't afford to let loose, so he was stuck with trying to find some other way to rid himself of the unwelcome visitor in his head.

Once Max agreed to let him help, Alec focused on cleaning up the cuts on Max's face and knuckles first. At first, he avoided what he knew was her major injury, because he really did not want to see just how much he had hurt her. But it could not be ignored, so when he finished with the superficial wounds, he silently gestured to her side. Max nodded, then slowly turned her back to him so that he could help pull her sodden jacket from her arms.

Alec pulled carefully at Max's denim jacket. Unfortunately, the garment was tight-fitting, and wet on top of that. He winced as Max was unable to stifle the soft whimpers of pain. When she sleeve came off of her right arm with a jerk, Max let out a cry of pain and leaned forward to brace herself against the sink.

A tremor ran through Alec at the sight of Max in so much pain. He was almost afraid to see the damage he had done. But he had to see. He had to make sure she didn't need more help than he could give.

He hobbled forward a step, so his front was inches from Max's back. He looked at her reflection in the mirror, and her face was pinched with pain. Alec reached forward and hooked his hands under the bottom edge of her shirt. He met her eyes, and he could see she was steeling herself for what was coming. "Can you do this?" he asked hesitantly.

Max bit her bottom lip and nodded. Alec acknowledged her with a nod of his own, then said, "On three. One, two... three." With that, he tugged her shirt upwards. Max tried to raise her arms to help him, but pain roared through her side, accompanied by a wave of nausea. A muffled scream escape from between clenched teeth.

At the sound, Alec stopped, pulling the shirt back down and moving his body to the back of hers to help brace her. Max leaned heavily against him, breathing fast through her nose. Her eyes kept rolling up into her head.

_Finish the job._

Alec shook his head in denial of that inner voice. His arms held Max loosely, afraid to hold on too tightly for fear of doing more damage. He felt like crawling into a hole and never coming out again.

Max's body trembled against his for a few seconds, but then she stilled, and he could see that she was gathering her strength. She was still leaning heavily against him, which was starting to scare him. He had to examine her injuries now, before he started to freak out.

He was about to ask Max to try it again, when she shook her head from side to side. She was too tired to hold it upright, so she kind of just rolled it from side to side against his chest.

"Just cut it off," she said, panting slightly. The last thing she wanted was to be half-naked in front of Alec--to have those long, agile fingers touch her skin--but she couldn't deny his desire to help her.

Alec nodded, then stepped back, grabbing her left arm to make sure she didn't lose her balance. "Here. Sit." With that, he maneuvered her back over to sit down on the toilet lid. He grabbed the scissors sitting on the back of the sink, then hobbled two steps over to the tub so he could sit on the edge again. Then he began to cut off her shirt.

He did not allow himself to notice the creamy caramel tone of her skin, as he cut her shirt down the middle of the back. He did not allow himself to notice the way her body curved in all the right places. He did not allow himself to feel how smooth her skin was as he slid the parted shirt down over her shoulders to drop on the floor, leaving her only in a silky black bra on top. He only allowed himself to see the cuts and scrapes, and the bruises that were beginning to form.

Once he had examined her back, which was relatively free of injury, he reached forward and grabbed her one knee, then pulled, turning her toward him so that he could examine her real injury.

On Max's right side was a bruise the size of a large cantaloupe. It had already turned an angry shade of red mixed with sickly purple. "Shit," Alec whispered, then bit his lower lip. He reached a hand toward her, then hesitated. He made several motions toward her, but couldn't seem to gather the courage to touch the wound to determine its severity.

"Alec," came Max's tired voice, and he looked up at the sound. Her head was tilted to the side, and she somehow managed to look both tired and bemused at the same time. Her lips quirked a little, and she rolled her eyes at his hesitation. "I'm tough. I can take it."

She was right. He needed to finish checking her injuries, before they both passed out from exhaustion. He moved his hand forward again, and gently trailing his fingertips over the bruise. A shiver ran through Max's body at his touch. His eyes had glazed over, as if he was looking, but not _seeing_.

"_Sorry_," he said quietly,

Max looked at his battered face and raised an eyebrow. "Think I gave as good as I got."

At the sound of her voice, Alec came back to himself. He smiled weakly at her, then winced a bit as the split in his lip protested. "Yeah. Guess so." Alec realized that he was falling down on the job, and re-focused his attention on Max's side. "This is prob'ly gonna hurt, Max."

Max steeled herself, but a little noise of pain escaped when Alec started feeling for breaks in her ribs. She grabbed his shoulder with her left arm, digging in with her fingers as the pain increased.

Alec's face paled as he felt out Max's injuries. "You... umm... you've got three cracked ribs... This bottom one... I uh... I'm gonna have to shift it, or it'll heal wrong."

"Just get it over with," Max growled, head hanging forward as she buried her fingers in Alec's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Alec whispered, then pushed with the flat of his hand, sliding her broken rib back into the right position.

Max tried not to do it. She wanted to spare him the evidence of her pain. But when he shifted that rib, and she could feel her bones grinding together in protest, she couldn't help but cry out.

Alec jerked his hands back as if she had burned him. "Sorry. Sorry. Sorry," he murmured, as if the mantra could somehow fix what he had broken.

"Stop. Fucking. Apologizing," she said through clenched teeth, head still bowed and eyes shut tight. She didn't want him to blame himself. She knew what blame felt like, and she didn't want to add to his burdens.

Alec leaned back, knowing that he could do nothing else for her. Not like you could put a cast on broken ribs. A crushing weight overcame him, and he was suddenly so very tired. He just wanted to lose himself in oblivion.

Alec sighed and ran a hand through his damp hair. "We always seem to hurt each other, don't we?"

Max raised her head to look at him, and her heart sank when she saw how he seemed to curl into himself, as if he were trying to make himself _less_ somehow. She could tell by the way he said those words that he meant so much more than just the physical.

"I need you to talk to me." Max said, her voice pleading and full of emotion. "_Please_."

He refused meet her eyes, remaining stubbornly silent. Max felt her chest tighten at the thought that he might keep bottling things up until he couldn't take the pressure. If he tried to end it again, she was afraid that she wouldn't be able to stop him. When she spoke again, her voice betrayed the fear she felt. "You can't just keep pretending that everything's all right when it's not."

Alec closed his eyes, and his face tightened with a pained look. "I know," he whispered.

They sat there in tense silence until Alec finally opened his eyes and pushed himself off of the tub to stand awkwardly. He took a hobbling step, then stopped. He didn't look at her when he spoke, just kept his eyes trained on the door. "Can you manage the rest yourself?" He knew he would not be able to handle helping her out of the rest of her clothes. A man could only ignore so much.

Max forced herself not to sigh. "Yeah," she replied quietly. Although Alec was avoiding the issue, a part of her was relieved. She didn't think she could deal with Alec undressing her any further without betraying her feelings. When he started to walk out the door, though, she realized that she couldn't let the issue drop. Not yet.

"Alec…" she began, ready to beg him to talk to her, but he cut her off before she could continue her plea.

"I can't, Max," he said, knowing what she was going to say before she said it. He shook his head. "I'm not ready."

"Are you ever gonna be ready?" she breathed.

Alec paused, but he didn't turn around. "I don't know."

* * *

Alec gingerly lowered himself down onto the bed. His body felt leaden. The sound of the squealing springs was almost comforting. He allowed his body to roll to the side, collapsing with a groan. He barely managed to haul his legs up on to the bed. 

He was so tired. There was only one other time in his life he had felt this tired, and he had told Max the absolute truth when he'd said that he wasn't ready to talk about it. He didn't even want to _think_ about it.

_You wouldn't have to think at all if you weren't such a fucking coward. But you had to go and listen to that bitch. You should've snapped her neck when you had the chance the first time. _

Alec shut his eyes tight. He rocked back and forth slightly, and a soft keening noise emerged from the back of his throat.

_It's not too late._

"Shut up," he whispered fiercely.

* * *

Max changed as quickly as the now throbbing pain in her side would allow her. She was afraid to leave Alec alone for too long, so soon after what he had tried to do. She ground her teeth together as she struggled out of the rest of her wet clothes. She had grabbed Alec's button-down, blue plaid shirt. She couldn't handle pulling anything on over her head at the moment, so she'd grabbed his shirt to spare herself some pain. She was thankful that the bra she was wearing had a clasp in the front, because she didn't want to sleep in the wet garment, and she would not ask Alec to help her remove her bra. Absolutely not. 

By the time she was done, she was dressed in soft, gray sweats and drowning in Alec's too-big shirt. Although she was chilled from the rain, beads of sweat had popped out on her forehead from the exertion. She moved stiffly into the bedroom. She hoped that Alec wouldn't revert so far as to need the bedroom as his sanctuary again, because she would not be able to bear it if she couldn't be near him right now. She needed to see the rise and fall of his chest. She needed to listen to the sound of him breathing. She needed reassurance that the man she loved had not left her.

Max slowly moved to the bed, then lowered herself down on it as carefully as possible, not wanting to draw any attention to herself. She was afraid that if she disturbed him in any way, he just might ask her to leave. She laid her head on the pillow and started to allow her abused muscles to relax.

They lay on the bed, facing away from each other, a gaping divide between them.

Max felt her eyelids begin to droop as sleep rose up to claim her. But just before her eyes fell shut, she saw something that had her bolting upright. She grunted as pain erupted in her side from the sudden move.

One of the dresser drawers was left slightly ajar--the one where she had stashed the pressure syringes and the sedative that she had used on Alec their first week in the apartment. There was a syringe sitting on top of the dresser. It hadn't been there before.

"What did you do?" Max asked, fear spiking through her. Her brain immediately tried to calculate how much sedative Alec would need to have taken in order to overdose his transgenic system.

"Don't panic, Max," Alec said, his words not yet slurring, but sounding heavy, as if it took him too much effort to speak. "Didn't try to kill myself again."

"What did you do?" Max repeated, heart pounding.

"Just a little somethin' to help me sleep." More like a lot of something to knock him out for at least six hours straight, but why split hairs?

"Why?" Max asked, shocked. Memories of that week came back to her, and none of them were good. After what she had done to him that week, she couldn't understand why he would voluntarily sedate himself.

Alec bit his bottom lip. There was still enough soldier left in him to make him hesitate to admit why he needed to do it. He felt his eyelids begin to droop, and he knew that if he didn't answer her soon, he wouldn't be capable.

_You're weak. You've always been weak. _

Alec told the voice in his head to go away. After what he had put her through, Max deserved an answer. He didn't move, just continued to stare at the opposite wall. "I don't want to dream," he breathed.

During his time at Manticore, Alec had become an expert at hiding bad dreams. He never woke up in a cold sweat, never jerked suddenly awake or cried out. His first experience with Psy Ops had been when he was four years old, the result of a bad dream. Ever since then, he had learned to hide all evidence of what Manticore deemed a sign of possible aberrant behavior. So even though Max had slept in the same bed with him, she never knew of the horrors that haunted his dreams at night. The only sure way that he knew to avoid them was under the unnatural sleep of heavy sedation.

Max collapsed back onto the bed, head pounding from the thoughts raging through her head. Less than an hour ago, Alec had tried to kill himself. Thirty seconds ago, she had thought he had tried it again. She could no longer bear to think of her life without him in it, and she had almost been faced with that prospect twice in one night. It was more than she could take. A strange pins-and-needles sensation encompassed her entire body, urging her to take _some_ action.

She didn't want to push him. She didn't want to put any more pressure on him than he already had. But she needed something from him.

"Alec?" she asked quietly, staring at the ceiling.

"Yyyeah?" he replied, and she could hear the slur caused by the drug taking over his system.

"Don't ever do that to me again." He voice shook when she spoke the words. She didn't just mean the scare she had just given him. She knew he would understand that she meant what had happened on the roof.

Alec felt himself starting to fade. He wondered if he could live up to Max's demand. Not really a demand, though, because people's voices didn't shake like that when they were demanding something. It was more like a plea.

He wouldn't lie to her. Not anymore. He wanted to tell her that he would not kill himself, but he did not know if he would be telling her the truth.

It wouldn't be the answer she wanted, but he would give her what reassurance he could.

"Trrry nnnot to..." he slurred, struggling to get the words out as his body began to surrender to unconsciousness. Then his eyes drifted closed, and with a sigh, he let himself be taken under.

* * *

Max watched Alec's body collapse in on itself, falling bonelessly into a drugged sleep. 

She knew that she should follow. She was exhausted, both physically and mentally. She needed to sleep. But she couldn't. He wasn't able to tell her that he wouldn't try it again. He would not make her that promise.

Which meant it was possible that he might try it again.

Max tried to close her eyes and go to sleep several times, but every time her lids closed, memories played like a movie on the inside of her eyelids. She saw the look on Alec's face, that night so long ago, when she had accused him of being a cold-blooded killer. She saw Alec's empty eyes, as he snapped that man's neck in the ring. His eyes, pleading for her to end it for him. His face, as he had his hand wrapped around her neck. But then other images began to flash so fast she almost couldn't process them. His smile. His eyes. Bickering with him. Laughing with him. Working a job, with him at her back. All the good times they had spent together. All of the things that had made her fall in love with him.

And he might try it again.

What if he succeeded the next time? How could she live her life without him?

She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling, unable to deal with the torment of those memories. She stayed that way for a while, listening to his deep breathing. Her revved up transgenic body was doing its duty--the pain in her side was beginning to fade to a dull ache instead of a deafening roar. But still she could not sleep.

And then it was like she was suddenly granted x-ray vision, and she could see through the flight above her, to the roof of the building. Her mind re-created the place that had been their battleground in vivid detail. Including one very important detail.

Her eyes widened, whites surrounding the brown irises as she pictured in stark contrast that one very important detail.

The gun.

It was still up on the roof, lying forgotten at the base of an air conditioning unit.

Max sat up, heart pounding once more. She couldn't leave it there. She couldn't stand the thought of it up there, waiting for him to change his mind. She had to do something about it.

Now.

* * *

Max didn't bother to put on any shoes. She didn't change out of Alec's baggy shirt. Even if she had wanted to, she wasn't sure she was capable of it in her current state. She moved out of the bedroom and started across the apartment, heading for the window that lead to the fire escape. 

She almost missed it. Almost walked past it without another thought, but the large and shaky MAX written on a piece of cardboard in Alec's handwriting caught her eye. It was sitting in the center of the table.

Max froze. Her heart stuttered in her chest, and she had a crazy thought that she should be apologizing to her brother Zack for lately putting so much strain on his precious gift. She held her breath as she hesitantly reached out for the note, hands shaking.

Her fingers were centimeters away from the note when she paused, afraid to touch it. She didn't want to know what was inside, what final words Alec had to say to her.

She didn't remember moving back toward the bedroom. She didn't know how long she had been standing in the doorway. She just suddenly was aware that she was leaning against the doorframe, watching him sleep. She had to assure herself that he continued to draw breath.

She loved him. So much that it was destroying her.

Max figured that this must be what post traumatic stress was like. Her muscles felt like they were thrumming, urging her to move, to run. She felt as if she was going to fly apart. At the same time, she wanted to curl in on herself until she disappeared into nothingness. So many conflicting feelings, threatening to undo her with their unruly battle.

She had to do something to make it stop.

She turned around and headed for the window. On the way past the kitchen table, she grabbed Alec's note without looking at it.

* * *

The rain had stopped. The storm had moved inland, leaving scattered clouds and a stormy sea in its wake. 

Max stood on the deserted beach, barefoot in the sand, the surf licking her ankles. Alec's note was tucked in her waistband at the small of her back, ignored. She couldn't bring herself to read it. She stared at the horizon, watching as the last of the dying sun sank into the sea. She watched as the sky gradually began to darken to deep blues and purples. A strong wind blew off of the ocean, pushing her hair back from her face as it dried her damp locks.

It had been so long since she had watched the sun set. Sure, she had been down at the beach with Alec several times at sunset, back when he was pretending things were okay, but she had never really paid attention. She hadn't noticed the way the light reflected on the ocean seemed to brighten slightly just as the sun was sinking, as if the ocean were trying to drink in the last of the light and hold on to it somehow. She hadn't noticed the richness of the sky's changing color.

She hadn't noticed a lot of things lately.

Max glanced down, looking at the item she held in her hands. The gun. After climbing out the window, she had--under protest from her aching side--gone to the roof to retrieve it. She couldn't leave it up there, where he could find it.

It felt so wrong, that piece of cold metal. She had practically been born with a gun in her hands, thanks to the wonderful people at Manticore. And thanks to those wonderful people, she had learned at an early age the horrors of what a gun could do. When she had escaped, she was able to leave all of that behind. But now she held a gun in her hand, and she could not escape the horror of what had almost happened.

The gun seemed to be alive in her hands, pulsing with a vile, cold energy. It was a malevolent force of evil, representing both her worst memories and her worst fears. It was a purveyor of the ultimate violation of the body, forcing hot metal into unwilling flesh. It was a means of destruction. An ender of life.

It had almost taken away the man she loved.

Max was haunted by an image of hazel-green eyes--dead, unfocused and dulled with a gray film--staring lifelessly into her own.

With an agonized scream, Max hurled the gun into the ocean, ignoring the flare of pain in her side. It flew far, her transgenic strength sending it sailing deep into the waves. As it sank into the deep, Max let out one more scream, long and loud, until her lungs were begging for air. All of her frustration and anger and fear powered that scream. When she had emptied herself out, having no more air left to give, her scream cut off abruptly and she collapsed to her hands and knees in the surf, sending up a splash of water.

Max braced her arms and managed to keep herself from tumbling into the surf. Her head fell forward, the ends of her hair trailing in the froth of the waves.

She felt hollowed out. Everything that happened was just too much to bear, and it left her with nothing. But the feeling that was threatening to undo her was the feeling of utter worthlessness. Nothing she had done had made a difference. What had happened on the roof had proved to her that Alec wasn't any better; if anything, he was worse.

Her life on the run had taught her not to believe in anything but herself, but now she was beginning to doubt even that. How much of what was happening to Alec was caused by her own stupidity? Had she nearly cost him his life because she refused to see the truth? Because she hadn't _wanted _to see the truth?

Tears began to fall. Once they started, she couldn't stop them. She drew in a shaky breath, but when she expelled it, it came out as a sob, and the damn broke.

"I don't know what to do," she whispered brokenly. She wasn't sure whom she was addressing. God, maybe? She understood the concept, but she had never really believed. As a child, she had believed in Ben's Blue Lady for a while, but she had stopped believing in her long ago. All she knew was that she could no longer rely on herself; she needed help. "_Please_," she cried, the word a heartrending sob.

Max didn't know how to pray. She did not know how to find the words to ask for help. But if there was a divine being up there, Max figured that He or She would be able to see into her heart to know what she was asking. Tears of utter desperation flowed freely down her cheeks, the salt tears joining their distant cousin in the ebb and flow of the saltwater tide.

"_Please,_" she repeated, begging. She felt her arms tremble, threatening to buckle and send her face first into the wet sand and surf. She pushed herself back onto her heels, then curled in on herself, wrapping her arms about her, rocking back and forth as the tears continued to fall.

She was overwhelmed by her fears. Fears that she hadn't allowed herself to deal with in front of Alec. She had to be strong for him. Now that he was protected by the boon of unnatural sleep for the next several hours, she let herself feel everything she could not feel then. She closed her eyes tight against the pain of it all.

Images flooded her brain, threatening to drown her. Images of what could have been--_Alec's body in her arms, a neat, round hole in his forehead_--and of what could be--_Alec in the tub, red swirls in the water caused by his slit wrists; stepping into the apartment to find it empty_.

Max opened her eyes, but they did not focus. They stared, unseeing, at the horizon. "_Please_," she whispered, and the soft sound was carried away on the wind.

What scared her the most was the thought that no one was up there to listen to her plea, and she was on her own.

Never, in her entire life, had she felt more alone.

* * *

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed this story along the way and provided feedback to help guide me. And I desperately need your feedback to help guide me. This was my first real experience with writer's block, and I've got to say, I didn't really care for it much. When I was stalled, a review showing up in my inbox was enough to motivate me to try again. (A few stern looks might have helped, too.) 

So please, do me a big favor and review. I rely on your guidance to help me make this story be the best it can be.


	16. Five and a Half Weeks

Gone

By Inzane

Disclaimer: Don't own. Don't sue.

Summary: How much abuse can a guy take before he snaps? Events in Hello, Goodbye take a different turn. AU from that point.

A/N: Okay, so I screwed up my review alerts for the last chapter, and completely lost track of which ones I replied to and which ones I didn't. I usually try (not always succeeding, there) to reply to signed reviews, but I've been busy, and my inbox was completely overloaded with other alerts that I haven't had time to look at, and I accidentally deleted a bunch, so I just said screw it. Might as well work on the next chapter instead of trying to figure that mess out. I figured you guys wouldn't mind. So, to get to the point, this is a general thanks to everyone that reviewed the last chapter. I value your guidance, as always.

Warning: I would just like to remind everyone that this story is rated **M**. _For a reason, people._

* * *

Chapter 16: Five and a Half Weeks 

After that night, Max and Alec spent five and a half weeks just existing in their dingy apartment. The help Max had begged for that night on the beach never came. There was no epiphany, no moment where she suddenly knew what to do for Alec. She had no idea what to do or say to help him banish his inner demons.

Max didn't push. He'd said he wasn't ready. Pushing him to talk about it wouldn't change that. But more than that, she was _afraid_ to push. Afraid that her pushing at him before was why he ended up on the roof with that gun in the first place. She made a determination to let Alec heal at his own rate instead of trying to force him along. The only thing left for her was to just be there for him. She only hoped that one day, he would be able to talk about what had happened back then. At Manticore.

The problem was, not only was he not ready to talk about it, but now it seemed he did not want to talk about _anything_. He hardly spoke to her at all, and his silence was killing her. It was ironic, really. Back in Seattle, before everything had happened--before their lives had fallen apart--all she thought she wanted was for him to shut up.

They ate. They watched TV. They slept, still sharing the same lumpy bed. The invisible line drawn down the middle the bed was still there, and it was a line that they never crossed. She would have given anything if he would have just tried to _accidentally_ cross that line. The old Alec would have tried it, no question. He would have brushed up against her while he was supposedly sleeping, or accidentally on purpose thrown an arm over her when he rolled. But this Alec didn't cross that line. This Alec slept with his back to her every night, rigid and unmoving. Sometimes Max wondered if he actually slept at all. She knew _she_ didn't, most nights. Most nights she just stared at his back, wishing that she could find some way to bring him all the way back, to who he was before this whole thing started. Even if he could only recover part of the man he had been, it would be enough.

Max kept Alec's note--she couldn't stand to think of it as a suicide note--in the bottom of her bag. She still could not bring herself to read it. She tried several times, taking it into the bathroom where he couldn't see her. She didn't want to remind him of that night. So many times she found herself sitting on the bathroom floor, with her back against the side of the tub, holding that note in her hands.

She knew she should read it. She knew that it might hold a clue to what was going on with him. But every time she tried, her hands began to shake uncontrollably. Her eyes would un-focus, turning inward to see a memory of Alec's face, dripping with rain, gun barrel jammed under his chin. Every time she tried to read it, she failed.

She was afraid of what was written on that note--those words that Alec had thought were his last. What would she find there? Apologies? Justification? Blame? Whatever it was, it stayed hidden on that folded up piece of cardboard, which had become ragged from her repeated handling.

Up on the roof, Max had called Alec a coward. Every time she sat with that letter in her hands, bold **MAX **standing out on the front like an accusation, she realized just how much of a fucking hypocrite she really was.

* * *

Sometimes Alec went out at night. He never told her where he was going. He would just disappear for hours at a time. There never seemed to be rhyme or reason to when he did it. He just seemed to have this random urge to _go_. 

The first time it had happened, their bodies were mostly recovered from their fight on the roof. Alec still walked with a limp, though it was barely perceptible. Her ribs ached occasionally, especially if she tried to lift something, but for the most part, she was healed.

It was well after midnight. Max was lying on bed--eyes closed as she listened to Alec's steady breathing--when she felt him get up. She had thought at first that he just needed to use the bathroom, but then she heard the rustling of clothing as he pulled a shirt on to accompany the sweatpants he usually slept in.

Max sat up, not even bothering to pretend that she had been asleep. "Where are you going?" she asked, mentally cursing herself that she allowed a note of fear in her voice.

Alec didn't answer right away. He avoided looking at her, bending over to slowly pull on his shoes. Even though the room was dark, lit only by the weak moonlight from the window, Max's transgenic vision could pick out every individual freckle on his still too-pale face.

He straightened and looked in her general direction, but he would not meet her eyes. Alec never let her see his eyes anymore. Maybe he feared that the eyes were indeed the window to the soul, and he was afraid of what she might see there. Whatever the reason, he kept his eyes hooded.

"Out," he said quietly, and it was not the late hour that made him talk that way. Alec was always quiet now. Alec--who had been so animated and energetic and bursting at the seams with life--was a shadow of his former self. And he never used a whole sentence when one word would do.

"Out?" Max replied tremulously, cold fear welling up in her chest. She had not left Alec's side since that night on the roof, except for when he went in the bathroom. Even then, she tended to hover outside the door, pacing.

"Yeah. Out," Alec repeated. He bowed his head, then shrugged on a jacket to protect him against the cool breeze that would be blowing in off the ocean. "Need some air."

Max felt her body move, making an abortive motion to get off of the bed. She knew he didn't want her to come with him, but her body was not listening to her mind. Her body did not want him to be where she was not.

Alec caught her motion, and his eyes flicked to hers and actually held for a second before looking away again. That brief second was enough for her to see the pain riding behind those hazel irises. How could she leave him alone when he looked like he was being torn apart on the inside? But his next words, so firm and final, stilled her body.

"Need some _space_," he said, not moving a muscle, waiting for her to accept his decree.

Max frowned, and she began to unconsciously bite her thumbnail, which was already ragged from prior abuse. As Alec moved toward the bedroom door, she almost found herself ignoring his request. She was ready to bolt off of the bed and stop him, follow him, do anything to prevent him from leaving her. If she didn't do something, he might not come back.

Alec paused in the doorway, sensing her intent. He turned his head slightly, so that she caught a hint of his profile. "_Please_," he whispered, and his voice was hoarse with whatever emotion it was that seemed to be threatening to overtake him. He didn't wait for her response, but moved away, his silhouette disappearing from the doorframe.

Max would have gone after him, if not for that final plea. It tore at her already damaged heart. He thought that she didn't trust him, and in a way, it was true. She trusted him with her life... she just didn't trust him with his own.

But she let him go. The promise she had made to him months ago came back to haunt her: _If you want to leave, I won't stop you_. He had turned those words against her once, twisting them to suit his purpose in a way she had never meant. But she couldn't break her word to him. Not now. Not when he was so fragile and broken.

He was gone for three hours. Max spent each and every second of those three hours frantic with worry. Every beat of her heart increased her panic. Maybe she shouldn't have let him go. What if he didn't come back? What if he decided to end it after all? The fears that haunted her every waking moment had become a possible reality. How could she live with herself if something happened to him and she wasn't there to stop it? She paced back and forth in the small living room, biting what was left of her ragged fingernails and trying to figure out just how long she was going to give him before she went looking.

When he finally walked in the door, blissfully still in one piece, Max had worked herself into such a state that the shock of relief was too intense for her overwrought system to handle. She collapsed into a heap on the couch, buried her face in her hands, and cried.

All this time, she had barely shed a tear in front of him. She had been determined to stay strong, to be the rock he could lean on. But three hours of ever-increasing panic had destroyed her resolve, and she sobbed in utter relief at the sight of him.

Max's outburst caused Alec to freeze in his tracks, held still by conflicting emotions. He was still heavily denying anything that might make him believe that there was something more than friendship in Max's unwavering devotion, and her display of emotion threatened that. It made him want to run away from her. But there was also this ache in his chest that he did not want to put a name to. It was this ache that had him shuffling slowly across the room.

He came to a stop in front of her, then turned and slowly lowered himself onto the couch. He sat right next to her, his shoulder brushing hers. He looked at the opposite wall, afraid to look at Max while she was like that. "You okay?" he asked hoarsely.

He heard a muffled noise that almost sounded like a laugh, followed by a noisy sniff. Max, with face still buried in her hands, began to nod an affirmative, but another sob broke through, and that nod quickly turned into a slow shake of negative.

Alec didn't realize what he was doing until he had already done it, but he lifted an arm and wrapped it around Max's shoulders, squeezing gently.

It wasn't his mind responding to Max's tears. It was his heart.

Max leaned into him, head coming to rest on his shoulder as the tears continued to fall. They stayed like that in silence for more than ten minutes, until Max's tears began to subside, and her body stilled.

"We'll be okay," Alec told her, somewhat haltingly. He didn't know if what he said was really the truth. He knew that Max would be okay; she was the strongest person he had ever met. But whether or not _he _would be okay... only time would tell that tale. So maybe it wasn't quite the truth, but he figured Max deserved _something_.

He gave her one final squeeze before unwrapping his arm from her body and shifting away from her. He was fooling around in dangerous territory again, and now that Max had calmed down, he once again felt the urge to run.

Realizing Alec's discomfort, Max straightened, wiping away the tears. For just a little while, Alec had felt a need to comfort her--which was completely ironic, given his situation, but _still_. And he said _We'll be okay_. _We. _As in the both of them. That, combined with the feel of his arm wrapped around her, caused a little spark of hope to light inside her. That delicate little spark, which could have been so easily fanned into a flame, was doused when Alec moved away.

She wondered if there would ever come a time that she could tell Alec that she loved him, and if he would be willing to hear it.

"Sorry," she told him roughly, her throat aching from her gut-wrenching sobs. She sniffed, then flipped her hair back in what she hoped was a nonchalant move. "Don't know what got into me."

"Tired, maybe," Alec said, looking pointedly at the floor.

She wanted to grab him up and hug him to her, and at the same time, throttle him. His avoidance, his lack of communication, his goddamn _stillness_, was driving her up the fucking wall. At the same time, it broke her heart.

Max sniffed again, then replied, "Yeah," allowing what had just happened between them to drop. She kept reminding herself not to push him. To give him time. To quit being so damn impatient and let him heal at his own rate. She told herself to not get her hopes up, that she shouldn't be thinking about her and Alec. There was no her and Alec, no matter how much she wished there was. Not now. Maybe not ever.

"I'm gonna go back to bed," Max continued, then stood. She wavered a little bit, and Alec quickly stood and grabbed her arm to steady her. It seemed to be an autonomic response on his part, because then his eyes widened slightly, and he immediately let go of her arm. But the instinct had been there.

_Don't get your hopes up, Max_, she told herself. _Don't you dare._

Max gave Alec a little nod, then turned and moved into the bedroom. She lowered herself down onto the bed, feeling an oppressive weight settle on limbs that had been drained by her emotional outburst.

Two minutes later, she heard Alec enter the bedroom. She held her breath as he crossed the floor. She had expected him to avoid her for a while. Her heart skipped a beat as he lowered himself down on the bed beside her, on his side of that invisible line.

Alec shifted uncomfortably. He felt bad about worrying Max like he had. He knew that she was afraid he would try to kill himself again. Sometimes, he was afraid of it too. But he'd felt the pressure building inside him, and he'd just had to get away before he exploded. He was afraid of what might happen if it all became too much for him to bear, and he didn't want Max getting caught in the fallout. He hadn't intended to be gone that long, but time had sort of gotten away from him.

_What do you care what she thinks? You don't need her. She is a liability. Liabilities should be eliminated. _

Alec firmly told the voice in his head that he wasn't fucking talking to him, and to shut the hell up.

_Without her, you could do what you want. End it if you want to. _

Damn voice. Max wasn't the liability. _He_ was. He was a burden of motherfucking epic proportion on her shoulders, and that little fact was near the top on his endless list of regrets.

"Sorry, Maxie," he whispered, knowing that it would not make up for scaring the hell out of her, but still needing to say it all the same.

At the sound of that quiet apology, Max thought she would break down once more. He had called her Maxie. He hadn't called her Maxie since that night.

_Oh, God._

She closed her eyes tight, struggling to control the terrible yearning in her chest.

* * *

The second time that Alec went out at night, she followed him. 

Max couldn't deal with the _not knowing _again. She felt like she was still dealing with the emotional fallout from the first time he'd gone out. It was only three days later, and she just could not go through that again.

So she followed him. She made sure to keep her distance, so he wouldn't realize that she was watching. At least she hoped he didn't realize it. She didn't know what she would do if he turned around and confronted her.

Part of her expected that she would be following him to some bar, but that was the part of her that was still thinking of him in terms of how he used to be. She had to keep reminding herself that he was so very not how he used to be. This Alec did not drown his sorrows in a bottle of Scotch. In fact, if he hadn't still looked like the Alec she had known, Max wasn't sure if she would have even recognized him at all.

She was surprised, however, when he lead her to the beach. She watched him kick off his shoes and step onto the soft sand. The ocean breeze ruffled his short hair, and the moonlight glinted off of his pale skin. He almost seemed unearthly--a spirit visiting a world that was no longer his own. The thought made her shiver. She wanted Alec firmly connected to this world.

Max stood behind a car on parked on the opposite side of the road and kept watch from afar, thanks to her enhanced vision. She watched as he walked on the sand a ways, with slow but deliberate steps. He stopped a couple of feet from the tide line, shoving his hands in his pockets and staring out at the ocean. After a while, he sat, never taking his eyes from the waves. Max felt a pang as she was reminded of the time when _she_ had gone to the beach for answers, only to find that there weren't any. She hoped that Alec had better luck in finding what he was looking for than she did.

Max watched him for three and a half hours that night, but he didn't move. He just sat there, crossed legged, and watched the waves. The way he sat there, it seemed as if he thought he might find the answers he was looking for concealed in that dark water.

Max felt a strange push/pull sensation on her body. Her heart felt the pull of Alec's pain, and it compelled her to go to him and offer what comfort she could. But her head heard the words he had said the first night he'd disappeared, and it pushed her away from him.

He went out because he needed to get away from her. Although it hurt, she had to respect that. She had to trust that he knew what he needed, because, in all honesty, _she_ didn't have a clue.

When he finally moved to get up, Max blurred away. She didn't want him to catch her watching him. If he did, he might realize just how damaged her trust in him was.

She was waiting for him when he returned, sitting in front of the TV and pretending to watch the stupid B-movie on the screen. She knew he wouldn't question her still being up, because her shark DNA kept her awake long after his predominately cat DNA did him in. She saw him glance at her with apprehension, possibly afraid of a repeat performance of her outburst the last time he had pulled his disappearing act.

"Hey," Max said casually, taking a sip of the soda she had hastily grabbed from the fridge to make it look like she had been there all along. She had even dumped half of it out in the sink to make the illusion all the more real.

Alec looked at her with that amazingly frustrating skill he had developed of looking at you without really _looking_. He could take everything in while somehow avoiding eye contact. Every time he did it, she just wanted to march over to him, place her hands on either side of his face, and force him to look at her.

He didn't say a word, just gave her a slight nod of acknowledgment before heading into the bedroom. Through the edge of her vision, she watched him kick off his shoes, tug off his jacket and shirt, then crawl into bed.

Max felt the stinging sensation of threatening tears, but she gritted her teeth and forced the feeling away. She would not cry. Not again. She would not be ruled by her emotions.

She followed him again two more times, but each time was the same. He went to the beach and stared at the waves. Nothing changed.

After that, she didn't follow him anymore.

* * *

Five and a half weeks they spent in that dingy apartment. They ate. They slept. They watched TV. They were stagnant, wallowing in the state of non-existence their lives had become. 

Until the night, exactly five weeks and three days after Max had stood between Alec and death, the pressure became too much for Alec to bear.

A few hours earlier, Max had gone out to earn them some cash playing pool. They were almost out of money and completely out of food, and now that their situation was no longer extreme, Max couldn't justify stealing. Not that grifting people out of their money playing pool wasn't stealing, considering her advantage, but at least those people had a choice. She didn't force them to play.

Max had been wary about going. Alec seemed a bit… off. It wasn't really something she could put her finger on. Just a gut feeling. He seemed a bit more fidgety than usual, a little less circumspect about his avoidance tactics. She could have been imagining it. She couldn't help but overanalyze every move he made since that night.

"Come with me," she had asked, reaching forward to nudge his arm. He was leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed and eyes downcast. She would have suggested putting off going altogether if not for the audible rumble of Alec's stomach. Her own stomach was beginning to feel the aching pang of hunger. It had been stupid to let their supplies get this low.

Alec had shook his head. "Nah," he'd replied, shrugging slightly. He sensed her hesitation, with that uncanny ability he had of knowing what was going on with her without even looking. For the first time in weeks, he actually raised his head and met her eyes. Her mouth dropped open slightly as she finally caught sight of those gold-flecked green orbs that had eluded her for so long.

"Don't mother hen me, Max," he said, keeping his gaze locked on hers. "It's not in your DNA."

Max frowned, confused by both the fact that he had spoken two complete sentences in a row and that he had almost made a joke. Maybe she was worrying for nothing. Or maybe he was trying to bullshit her again. How the hell was she supposed to know when something was wrong with him? Or more wrong then usual, anyway? God, her life was fucking crazy.

"Stop analyzing me," Alec said with a touch of anger, interrupting her thoughts. He continued to stare at her, as if he understood just how much his eyes, which she had missed for so long, affected her.

Max's brows furrowed. "M'not," she replied sulkily, irritated with herself that she had been caught.

"Right." Alec shook his head, not wanting to continue their quasi argument. He pushed himself away from the counter to stand directly in front of her. "Go. I'm hungry." Another growl of his stomach confirmed his declaration.

Max held her breath, trying to think of a reason to stay but coming up empty. She nodded her head, then moved toward the door. Although she was facing away from him, she felt a pull on her body in his direction, as if she was a compass and he was her true north. It was hard to deny that pull, but she knew she had to go.

As her hand clasped the doorknob, she froze, assaulted with images of the last time that she had left him to go get food. She bowed her head, closing her eyes against the memory of Alec holding a gun under his chin.

"You'll be here when I get back?" she asked him, and although she tried, she couldn't keep the tremor out of her voice.

"Yeah," she heard him reply in a tone that also spoke of bad memories. "I'll be here. Promise."

It was that last word that allowed Max to yank open the sticky door and head out into the a world that was quickly fading into twilight. She reminded herself that she couldn't expect Alec to fully trust her enough to tell her about what had happened to him unless she trusted him in return.

She came back two hours later, with two large pizzas and a six pack of beer under one arm and three hundred dollars stuffed into her back pocket. She could have made more, but she hadn't been willing to linger. When she pushed open the door, the apprehension that she had been feeling while away from him intensified.

Something was wrong.

Max quietly set the pizza boxes and beer on the recliner, then transferred her weight to the balls of her feet and bent her knees slightly, the Manticore version of high-alert mode. Alec was nowhere in sight. Since she could see all of the apartment from right inside the front door except part of the bedroom and the bathroom, she had to figure that Alec was either in one of those areas, or he was gone.

She stood utterly still, trying to get a sense of him. That was when she heard it. A rhythmic thump, thump, thump. It seemed to be coming from the direction of the bathroom.

Max stalked silently toward the bathroom, automatically in commando mode. Part of her wanted to call out to Alec, but the soldier in her wouldn't allow it. The soldier told her to not give her position away.

She stopped in front of the bathroom door, which was partially shut. She heard the sound of the shower running. The woman who was in love with Alec overrode the soldier, and she pushed open the door, heart beating a little faster as she feared what she would find.

"Alec?" she called hesitantly, stepping into the room, eyes immediately scanning for him.

The shower curtain was closed. His clothing lay heaped in a pile in front of the tub. Aside from that obvious clue, she could tell from the pattern of the water that Alec was behind that curtain. The rhythmic thump was also coming from behind that curtain. Max hesitated for only a fraction of a second, then her worry overrode everything else and she pulled back the curtain.

Her eyes scanned over him in an instant, taking in his naked, wet flesh and smooth muscles. The sight of him should have caused her to spontaneously combust from an overload of lust, but her eyes saw more than his genetic perfection. Her eyes saw _Alec_, and he was in agony.

His eyes were closed tight against some inner pain. His body was shaking, and his palms were flat against the wall of the shower. As she watched, he thumped his forehead hard against the cold tile wall. He drew back, and Max could see that the tile had at some point cracked under his assault, but that was all she could take in before he smacked his head into the wall again.

"Alec!" Max called out, alarmed, but he didn't seem to hear her. His forehead was already an angry red from repeated abuse, and the broken tiles in the wall would surely cut him soon if he didn't stop. "Alec!" she repeated, and her voice rose higher in panic.

Either he could not hear her, or he did not want to hear her. Either way, the result was the same. She was going to have to take a more direct approach.

* * *

It wouldn't shut up. The fucking voice wouldn't shut up. It had been getting worse and worse over the past couple of weeks. Pushing him to do things he didn't want to do… 

_You're defective. Damaged goods. You should have pulled the trigger on yourself while you had the chance._

… _s_hut up! He did not want to kill himself. He. Did. Not. Want. To. Kill. Himself. Max had made him see that death wasn't the answer.

_The bitch is in your way_…

No. He didn't want to kill Max. He would not hurt her. Not again…

_You are a killer_…

Goddammit, he was _more_ than what they had made him to be. He had been what they had made him to be, but he didn't want to be that anymore.

_What's one more life on your hands? Soooo many lives on your hands. _

Two days ago, he had awakened to that voice in his head. But this time, it didn't stop. It was then he knew that he was in serious trouble.

The fucking voice was there constantly now. It was almost as bad as it had been back at Manticore. He knew what would come next. It had happened back then, and he was afraid there was nothing he could do to stop it from happening now.

He was going to break.

He held on for two days, trying not to let Max know there was something wrong. He couldn't talk to her about it. How could he talk to her about it? How did you tell someone something like that? _Hey, Max, pass the salt. Oh, and by the way, did you know I was so fucking crazy that I hear voices in my head?_ Not the kind of conversation he wanted to have.

But the voice had been going on non-stop, and it was getting louder and louder until it was starting to drown out everything else. So when Max had decided they needed to do a cash and food run, he had jumped at the chance to stay behind. He couldn't hold on much longer.

As soon as he heard her motorcycle roar off down the road, he practically ran into the bathroom. He ripped at his clothes, almost tearing them in his haste. He stepped into the shower and turned the cold water on full blast.

Stinging cold needles assaulted his skin. Because of his higher average body temperature, the cold water seemed even colder against his warm skin. He let his head hang down and sighed as the sensation of frigid water against his skin distracted him from all else.

He figured Max never knew the real reason why he got so many showers. Even before that night he had ended up on the roof, he had used cold showers to help distract him from everything going on in his head. It had worked, too.

Until now.

He couldn't get the voice out of his head. He couldn't get _Max _out of his head. He kept thinking about what she would think of him, how she would feel when she found out just how batshit crazy he really was. He wished she would go. He didn't want her to see him like this. He wished she would just go.

_You're a fucking liar. If you really wanted her gone, you would've snapped her neck a long time ago. You're weak._ _A coward._

Alec smacked his head against the tile wall. God, he hated it when the voice was right. He didn't want Max to go. He needed her, and he hated himself for it. Every time she left, he felt some of the pressure on his barriers ease, but he always knew that she was coming back. He wasn't sure what he would do if she didn't come back.

He began to smack his head over and over again. Max was his tie to his former self. She held the template for the Alec that was. If he could just be the way she wanted him to be again, then everything would be all right. Not just pretend to be that way again, but _be _that way again.

He needed her. A part of him realized that he had always needed her. And that was what made him weak.

Maybe if he hadn't needed her so much, none of this would have ever happened.

And then she was there, calling his name. He ignored her. If he ignored her, maybe she would just go away. Then he could just hold on to what he had, and hope that it would be enough.

But, dear God, he hoped she didn't touch him. If she touched him, he knew he would lose control of the emotions that had been steadily threatening to overwhelm him. Those Manticore-style barriers he spent so much time over the past couple of months rebuilding would crumble into dust.

He smacked his head into the wall again. And again. And again.

* * *

Alec smacked his head into the wall one more time. Max didn't think about the fact that he was naked. She was spurred into action. He was in pain, and she needed to stop it. 

She stepped in behind Alec and wrapped her arms around him, and she felt the shock of frigid water as it hit her arms. She had no time to savor the fact that Alec--_naked, wet Alec_--was in her arms. This was no time for sexual fantasies. She pulled back, trying to get him away from the shower wall. He resisted, which was a problem. He was strong and stubborn, and her advantage of speed would do her no good in these close quarters.

"Alec, stop," she cried out, and pulled harder. This time he backed away, and she almost stumbled as he backed into her. He was shaking hard, and his skin was far colder than it should be.

She slipped around him, moving in front of him so she could turn off the cold water, getting soaked in the process. She turned back to him, shivering slightly. Her plan was to help him out of the tub and get him dry, but she froze when she caught sight of him again.

His body was wracked by fine tremors, and his eyes--those wonderful eyes--were haunted. There was so much pain there, barely contained. His eyes bored into hers, and even with so much pain riding behind them, they were stunning. She felt mesmerized by them. She wanted to do something to make his pain go away, to make that haunted look go away.

She didn't realize what she was doing until it was too late. She leaned her body in close to his, raised up on her toes, and kissed him.

Only when her lips were ablaze at the contact with Alec's did she realize what she had done. His lips were so wonderfully soft and she wished it would go on forever, but she knew that she should not be doing this. She pulled back, eyes wide with shock at her action.

"I'm sorry," she stammered, keeping her eyes locked on his face. She couldn't look down, because she was now intensely aware that Alec was completely naked. She felt herself flush. Alec looked as shocked as she felt, eyes wide and mouth hanging slightly open. She swallowed hard, then tried to continue. "I shouldn't have..."

Her words were cut off abruptly as Alec grabbed her and jerked her toward him, slamming his mouth down on hers.

Max's eyes flew wide in complete, mind-blowing shock. Alec was kissing her. The thought barely had time to register before he spun her around and pressed her into the back wall of the shower, pinning her to the wall with his body. The move instantly brought memories back of when she had found him back in Los Angeles, after the fight. And just like back then, she was afraid, though this time for a different reason.

Her body was humming with desire. She wanted so much to respond to him, but she knew it was wrong. He was in an extremely delicate mental state right now, and if they did this, she would be taking advantage of him. She couldn't be sure that he truly realized what he was doing. He might not really want this. He might not really want _her_. She didn't want to do anything that would threaten their fragile relationship, and, most of all, she didn't want to hurt him.

But then his hand snaked up her side, underneath her wet shirt, thumb brushing against the side of her breast, and his tongue dipped into her mouth, flicking lightly at hers. All rational thought in her brain self destructed. The only thing she could understand was that Alec wanted her, and she wanted him back, and she would regret it for the rest of her life if she pushed him away.

Max reached up and buried her hands in his wet hair, and then kissed him back for all she was worth.

It got out of control quickly. Things were happening too fast. His hands were everywhere. Before she knew it, her jacket and shirt were gone, and his fingers had slipped inside her bra. The article of clothing must have offended him, because he made a frustrated, impatient noise in the back of his throat. He didn't bother to undo the clasp; he just grabbed the center with both hands and ripped, and then his talented fingers were immediately replaced by his mouth.

Max's back arched involuntarily, and she clung to his shoulders to brace herself. Her breath thickened as he continued the exquisite torture, and she wondered for a moment how he could be that good with his tongue. Not like it had been getting much exercise in the past nearly-silent weeks. That thought was cut off as she felt the stinging bite of his teeth, immediately soothed by tongue. Her eyes rolled back in head, and she clung tighter to his shoulders. She felt like she couldn't keep up; all she could do was hang on.

She hung on as he ran his hands over her ass and then lifted. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist. He stepped out of shower, but it was like the bedroom was too far away. He pushed her up against wall, once more meeting her lips. Max had the presence of mind to toe her shoes off, and they fell with a thunk to the floor. He pushed his upper body back from her, pinning her to wall with lower body, and--_Jesus fucking Christ_--he was _very _happy to see her. She writhed against him, and oh, yes, that was exactly the position she wanted to be in. If only her stupid pants weren't in the way. Dammit, why couldn't she have worn a skirt? But then she couldn't think, 'cause he apparently pinned her to free up his hands, which had once again become very busy.

After a few minutes, when she managed to get her brain to function again, she felt a hint of dissatisfaction. Not with Alec, but with herself. Alec was doing all the work. She wanted to put her hands on him, her mouth on him, but he wouldn't let her get the upper hand. Every time she tried, he would push her away and increase his assault on her body, sending her head reeling and distracting her from her goal. She was about to renew her efforts when Alec unwrapped her legs from around his waist.

She made a little noise of protest until she figured out Alec had finally decided to do something about her annoying pants problem. His hand snuck in between their bodies and quickly undid the button and zipper, then both hands were inside her waistband and was sliding both pants and underwear down. He followed them down, hands sliding down her body, mouth following the path of his hands. He helped her step out of the tangle of wet cloth, then she was blissfully naked in front of him. Then those hands were sliding back up, nudging her legs apart as his mouth made the return trip up her body. When he decided to make a little pit stop half way up and put lips and tongue to good use, Max flew apart.

It had been so long since she'd had an orgasm. So long that it was pathetic, actually. But she didn't remember it feeling like _this_.

Her eyes went blind as an explosion went off right behind her eyelids. She could hear her racing pulse in her ears, and she felt like a million white hot pins were pricking her skin. She was soaring and falling at the same time. She buried her hands in his hair as she rode it out. His hands were tight on her hips, supporting her as her body shuddered and her knees turned to water. But he didn't relent in his assault. She barely had time to come down before he was sending her over the edge again. It felt like her skin couldn't hold everything she was feeling, and she had no outlet save one for that overload of energy.

She screamed.

The scream cleared her head a bit. She could think again, instead of just feel. It was time to slow things down a bit. She enjoyed the frantic pace of their foreplay, but she wanted to take time to savor it, savor _him_. She had to hurry--which seemed strange when what she really wanted to do was slow things down--because Alec was moving up her body, ready to take her, right there against the wall. Part of her wanted him to. But she realized that this might be the only chance she had.

If she couldn't _tell _him she loved him, she could sure as hell _show _him.

Max shoved him back, and he stumbled backward a few steps, bumping into sink. He leaned hard against it, chest heaving. His eyes were burning, as if his animal instinct were taking over.

She didn't want this to be about instinct. She wasn't going to let it devolve into two perfectly engineered bodies mindlessly rutting. This was going to be about her and Alec.

* * *

When Max pulled him back and stopped him from banging his head against the wall, Alec was seconds away from shattering. The last thing he wanted was for her to touch him, and when her arms wrapped around him, he felt like he was standing on the edge of a precipice of a deep abyss, about to fall into darkness. Max moved around to face him, and he felt himself begin to tumble into that abyss. But then he was snapped back when he felt Max's lips against his. Those warm, soft, full lips. 

The man he had been used to dream about those lips.

He had kept his mind tightly locked down when it came to Max, ignoring anything that fell outside of the boundaries he had set. But now, suddenly, he was aware she was very much a _woman_. As she stammered an apology, he remembered there was another way to silence the voice in his head, one that was a lot more successful than cold showers. One that he'd indulged in on a daily basis back at the fight club.

Sex. Mindless, aggressive sex. It was the one thing that seemed to distract him enough to ignore everything in his head. If he could just immerse himself in Max's perfect female form, he might find peace, if only for a little while.

He went on the offensive, focusing completely on Max's body and nothing else. Everything else faded away until there was nothing but pure sensation. Every time she tried to return the pleasure he was giving her in kind, he countered, keeping her mind focused on what he was doing to her, and not on him. He didn't think he could stay disconnected from all the tangled emotions locked up in his head if she put her hands on him.

He kept the pace fast and furious, laying siege to each inch of bare skin revealed as he undressed her. When she came that first time, he felt a little flutter in his chest. He pushed it away. He didn't want to feel, he just wanted to fuck. When she came again, screaming, it stirred the animal within, and he moved up her body, urged to follow his instinct and take her where she stood.

But then she shoved him back, and his blood starved brain couldn't make sense of it. There she was--_Max_--standing there in all of her wondrous, naked glory, with a wicked look in her eyes. That look made him think that she had _plans _for him, and he didn't think that those plans coincided with his need to mindlessly fuck.

That look made him shift uncomfortably. He wanted to look away, but he couldn't. His eyes widened as she stalked slowly towards him, dangerously curvy hips swaying. She brought her hands up and pushed her wet hair out of her eyes, and the motion made a heart-stopping display of her breasts.

He reached for her. He needed her flesh against his, he needed to lose himself inside of her. Now. If he didn't have her now, the voice might start up again and he just couldn't deal with that. But she swatted his hand away.

"Uh uh, pretty boy," Max purred, running her hands down his arms to stop at his wrists, and she pinned his hands against the sink top.

He didn't fight her, because the motion caused her to lean forward and brought her body against his. She undulated against him--there was no other word for it--and he growled and strained against her grip, but she held him firm. She stood on tiptoe, the motion causing her body to slide against his, and nipped at his lower lip. "My turn," she whispered.

She began to use her hands and mouth on him, much as he had done to her. This time, she was the aggressor. But there was something else behind her touch. Something that refused to let him disconnect. He closed his eyes, but she put her hands on the side of his face.

"Look at me, Alec," Max breathed. She didn't release him until he opened his eyes and looked at her. He really looked.

She was beautiful. Physical beauty was coded into her DNA, like all of the X-5s, but there was something _more _about her. Something that shined from the inside. It was the something that had made him stick around for so long back in Seattle, when his brain had told him to run.

He jerked his head to clear those thoughts from his mind. Dangerous territory.

Max took his hand and lead him to the bedroom, and he followed like an obedient puppy. Before he knew it, she had him on the bed.

He tried to take control again, but she refused to allow it. Max was a powerful and strong-willed, and she knew what she wanted. He could have tried to force the issue, used his greater strength to take what he wanted now, but he couldn't do that to Max. He would let her lead, and he would follow.

This time, her hands moved slow, and her lips were soft and caressing. Her gentle touch was torture. He lay there, letting her have her way with him, trying desperately to stay disconnected from his emotions. He couldn't let himself feel for her. If he let himself feel, then he'd have to feel everything else, and he couldn't take that risk.

He tried to fight it, but he couldn't. She was impossible to resist. She made it impossible to _not feel_. When she slowly kissed her way back up his body, he felt his eyes flutter as the tenderness of her touch threatened to overwhelm him. She was face to face with him once more, and her hair, now dry, fell down around their faces like a curtain. When she whispered, "Touch me," staring at him with her soulful dark chocolate eyes, he was lost.

He obeyed her command, running his hands over her body, giving Max exactly what she wanted. This time, his hands were slow, and his touch gentle. This time, he didn't disconnect. They rolled on the bed, alternately giving and taking. Their bodies, now slickened with sweat, slid over each other in a passionate dance.

It was the most amazing thing he had ever experienced in his life. He rolled on top of her, raising up on his forearms so he could see her face. She shut her eyes tight as she strained under him, her body begging him to end her torment and consummate the act. He hovered over her, about to give her what she wanted, when she slowly opened her eyes and stared at him.

It was as if she had opened up her soul to him. What he saw there caused his poorly patched barriers to crack right through to their foundation.

A tremor started in his arms, and then moved through his whole body. He pushed himself off of her and knelt on the bed, eyes wide and staring.

Max reached out for him, a hesitant, "Alec?" rolling off her swollen lips.

"_Stop_," Alec begged, backing away from her. He turned his back to her, sitting on edge of bed. "Just stop," he pleaded.

Max sat up, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around her legs, hiding her nakedness. God, how those words of rejection fucking _hurt_. A single tear escaped, and she wiped it away roughly. She told herself to suck it up, that Alec may not want her, but he _needed _her.

She crawled over to him, then leaned against his back and wrapped arms around him, resting her cheek against his.

Alec tried to shy away. "Don't…" he breathed. "_Please_."

The pain in Alec's voice overrode her own. She held on tighter. "It's okay to _feel_, Alec."

His body was shaking hard now, as he tried to get a grip on emotions that threatened to run rampant. "I can't," he said, his voice broken. His breaths came fast, on verge of hyperventilating. "It fucking _hurts_."

Max swallowed hard and blinked away tears. "It doesn't always hurt." She turned her head to place a soft kiss on his cheek, and whispered, "Not always."

Alec rocked in her embrace, his body strung taught like a wire. She held on, waiting for him to let it out, to purge the emotions that were crippling him. After half a minute, he froze, and she finally thought he was going to let go, but he grabbed her arms and peeled her off of him, standing abruptly. All that Max could do was stare in shock.

He reached over to the head of the bed and pulled off one of his t-shirts that he had a habit of hanging on the rail. He didn't turn, but held it out to her, not looking. Max bit her bottom lip as it trembled; she would not cry. She silently took the shirt and pulled it on.

Alec, all concise movement with no wasted motion, grabbed a loose pair of cargo pants and pulled them on. He stood still for a minute, hands hanging clenched at his sides. His eyes shifted to meet hers for the briefest moment, then shifted away, and he turned and headed out of the room.

Max frowned. Something had changed. She bolted off of the bed, digging into the box they used as a laundry basket and grabbing a clean pair of Alec's boxers. She pulled them on quickly, then moved to the door.

She paused in the doorway, almost afraid that she would not find him out there, that he had fled. She let out a little sigh of relief when she saw him, standing by the window in living room, staring out at the night, arms crossed over his bare chest.

She wasn't sure what to say. She shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, trying to think of something, but she was having trouble switching gears. A minute ago, she had been drowning in pure pleasure, and now they had come to this. Awkward silence in a dingy apartment.

She didn't need to say anything. Alec turned his head to face her, and his eyes were filled with pain and fear. His let out a shaky breath, and his voice was unsteady when he finally broke the silence.

Five and a half weeks after the night he tried to kill himself, Alec finally said the words she'd been waiting to hear.

"I think I'm ready to talk now."

* * *

A/N: Okay, I usually don't go for that graphic, but the story seemed to call out for that level of intensity at this point. Since it was already rated M, I figured I might as well go for it. I hope I have not offended. If I have, I can't really say I'm sorry for it. I did remind you it was rated M for a reason. 

I will apologize for the cliffhanger, though. The muse demanded me to sacrifice the reader's sanity. I am a slave to the muse.


	17. The Talk

Gone

By Inzane

Disclaimer: Consider it disclaimed.

Summary: How much abuse can a guy take before he snaps? Events in Hello, Goodbye take a different turn. AU from that point.

A/N: I am aware that I have kept everyone hanging for over three weeks. Forgive me, but this chapter was hard to write. It's not like I had writer's block or anything again. It's just I found it really difficult to write a chapter that is mainly just two characters talking, especially when one of those characters had a hell of a lot of important stuff to say. The holiday didn't help either, thanks to several turkey-related tryptophan comas.

This chapter is ridiculously long, which also contributed to the delay. I was going to divide it into two chapters, but I didn't like the way the two chapters flowed separately, and I figured you folks would be mad if I left you hanging in the middle of Alec's story... hence the mother of all chapters. So, fetch the comfy chair and plan accordingly.

Warning: I think I have decided to stop with my standard warnings. This story is rated M, so you can just assume that language, sex, and violence are all fair game and could crop up at any time.

* * *

Chapter 17: The Talk 

_I think I'm ready to talk now._

The words bounced around inside Max's skull as she tried to make sense of them. She drew back her head in shock, eyes blinking rapidly. She could hardly believe that she had heard him right. She was afraid that it might be just wishful thinking on her part. But the haunted look in his eyes and the way he rigidly held his body suggested otherwise. Her heart began race, and her fingers dug into the wood of the doorjamb as she forced herself not to overreact. Overreacting right now was so not a good idea.

Max forced her fingers to let go of the doorjamb, wood creaking softly as it was released from the pressure of transgenic strength. She walked haltingly over to the couch, eyes wide as she slowly sat down. She pulled her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, never taking her eyes from him.

She waited for him to speak, but he was silent. He seemed to be looking inward, searching for a way to start.

"Tell me," Max said quietly, afraid to break the spell that had compelled him to speak, but wanting to let him know that she was there to listen.

Alec blinked as Max's voice pulled him out of his reverie. He nodded lightly, then turned to look back out the window. He sucked in a deep breath, gathering his courage. _Calm down_, he told himself. _You can do this_. He tried to release the breath slow and even, but it came out shaky. He let out a bitter, almost embarrassed laugh and ran a hand through his hair.

"It's been almost two years," he said in a tone that dripped with self-loathing. "You think I would've gotten over this shit by now."

Max shrugged her shoulders. "Some wounds take longer to heal than others."

"Yeah," Alec replied, bowing his head. He was delaying, and he knew it. He'd told her he was ready to talk, and he had meant it. Actually doing it, however, was another matter entirely. He bit his bottom lip and fell into silence once more.

Max could see Alec's difficulty and felt the need to do something to ease it. "Take your time," she said in a soothing, careful tone. "I'm not going anywhere."

Alec smiled crookedly and shook his head. "You _should_."

"Alec…" Max said in protest, not wanting to get into _that _argument again, but he interrupted her.

Alec whirled around, and the pain and fear in his eyes was replaced with anger. "I'm dragging you down, Max. You think I don't know that? You think I can't _see_? I'm a fucking albatross around your neck. You should just leave. Cut your losses. _Live_ again."

Max wanted to tell him that she would never leave him, but she didn't want to freak him out. What they had already done that day had probably freaked him out enough. "I'm not going anywhere," she repeated firmly. This was one point on which she refused to bend.

Alec glared at her, as if he could make her go by will alone. "You're making a mistake."

Max glared back, her will as strong as his. "If so, it's mine to make."

Alec's brow furrowed as he realized she was not going to budge. Who was he kidding? This was _Max_. Of course she was not going to budge. He let out a growl of frustration.

"You're so goddamn stubborn."

Max smirked at him. "Look who's talking."

Alec ran a hand through his hair again, which spiked wildly under his rough ministrations. He stalked back over to window, agitated. He placed his hands on the windowsill and leaned heavily, feeling the burden of his decision to talk. He looked out once again at night. It was dark. Heavy clouds obliterated any hint of moon or stars. If not for his enhanced eyesight, he would have been staring out into inky blackness, but transgenic eyes fixed on the shapes of nearby buildings.

Max wanted to go to him, but she kept herself locked in place on the couch. The memory of what had happened between them just a few minutes before, when Alec had pushed her away, was forefront in her mind. She didn't want him to react badly again.

"Talk to me, Alec. You can't keep this locked up inside. It's killing you."

Silence once again ruled in the dark room. Neither transgenic had wanted to turn on a light. The things they needed to talk about were best discussed in shadow. A minute passed, then two. Max held her breath, afraid he might have changed his mind.

This was so hard. She had barely had time to come down; her body was still thrumming from what had happened between them in the bedroom. Max knew that it was probably a good thing that they had stopped, but she still couldn't help but feel an aching sense of loss. Combine that with the thought that Alec might finally talk about what had happened to him back then, and what she had was an extreme case of mental overload. She told herself to be patient, keep quiet, don't push, but that was so not what she was about. When she found her mouth opening to speak, she sunk her teeth into her bottom lip to fight her natural tendencies.

Suddenly, Alec's smooth voice filled the darkness.

"There's this voice," he began quietly, then paused. She heard him blow out a whistling breath before continuing. "In my head."

Max's mouth dropped open as she was utterly taken aback. She was not sure what she had expected him to say, but this was definitely not it.

Alec turned his head toward her, eyes flicking to meet hers with pained embarrassment in his gaze. "Yeah. I know. Crazier than you thought, huh?"

Max felt as if he had slapped her. "I didn't think… you're not…" she stammered, completely flustered, both by his declaration and the offhanded delivery of it.

Alec threw back his head and laughed at her reaction, surprising even himself. He knew she would deny it. Max had become more of a glass-is-half-full kind of girl lately. He laughed again, and began to wonder if he was bordering on hysteria. "Sugarcoat it all you want, Max. Hearing a voice in your head is pretty fuckin' crazy."

Max frowned, unsure of how to reply to that. The smile died from Alec's face and he became serious again. He turned away from her, unwilling to watch her reaction to what he planned to say.

_Keep your fuckin' mouth shut. Don't you tell that bitch a thing. Didn't you learn anything from your time at Manticore? Never reveal your weaknesses. _

Alec ignored the voice, and took one more deep breath as he set out to have the most important conversation of his life.

* * *

"That night, when you said... when you thought I could..." Alec faltered, not wanting to repeat the rest. He had heard the accusation so many times from the voice in his head, he was afraid that voicing it out loud might be enough to send him over the edge. "...it brought it all back, every fucking thing I'd tried to forget, and worst of all, that goddamn voice, it started up again." 

Max started at the word _again_--_what the hell does he mean, __**again**_--but she didn't interrupt. He was finally talking to her, and she didn't want to do anything that might threaten that. Alec had finally found his voice, and the words flowed from him, as if he was making up for the past weeks of practical silence.

"I couldn't deal with it. Not again. But I had nowhere to turn. You wouldn't listen, and Joshua… I love the big lug, don't get me wrong, but he just wouldn't understand. Seemed like everyone and everything had turned against me, and I just couldn't take it anymore. You wanted Alec gone, then Alec would be _gone_. I shut myself off. Stopped feeling. Stopped caring. Locked away everything that made me _me_. Just like before. But even then, it just wouldn't shut the fuck up. So I ran. _Stay gone_, right? I was gonna stay gone."

Max felt waves of shame threatening to drown her. One not-so-simple mistake had set in motion every bad thing that had happened to him over the past eleven months. How did you apologize for something like that? She had no idea, but she would have tried anyway, if Alec hadn't continued on, barely stopping to draw breath. The words were gushing from him; he could no longer hold them back.

"I ran, and I just kept on going. Didn't care where I went, as long as it was somewhere else. It was like I thought I could outrun it or something. Heh. Stupid, right? Trying to run from a figment of your own fucked up brain?"

Max couldn't take him beating himself up any more. "You're not stupid, Alec."

"Oh, there's where you're wrong. You see, 'cause when I couldn't run from it, I tried to stop it. I did it before, I could do it again. Problem was, I'd already locked away everything I had once been; whatever it was in me that was able to fight it the first time, it was gone. So I did whatever I could to try to stop it. Sex. Violence. They worked most times. I even tried drugs, though I should've known that wouldn't work too well on the old supped-up metabolism, but, you know, fuckin' crazy person here." Alec spun his finger around in a circle near his temple to accentuate just how crazy he was.

Max unbent her legs and placed them on the floor. Her brow furrowed in anger, and she had to grip the edge of the couch to keep herself from getting up. "Stop saying that," she said firmly.

Alec held his hands out wide and raised his eyebrows at her. "Stop saying what? The truth? Because that's what it is. The truth. I tried to run from it, ran a thousand miles, and what did it get me? More blood on my hands. As if I didn't have enough already," he said bitterly, staring down at those hands as if he could see the blood on them.

"Seventeen more lives on my hands. _Seventeen_, Max. And that's just the ones I know about. Who knows how many of 'em died after they dragged their broken bodies out of that ring? All because I was desperately trying to cling to what little sanity I had left. After a while, even_ I_ knew that it was a hopeless cause. Got to be that every time I stood in that ring, I was wishing that, for once, I wasn't faster or stronger or better. I just wanted someone to end it, because I was too much of a coward to do it myself."

_Fuckin' pansy. It's not too late to grow a pair and finish what you started five and a half weeks ago._

Alec doubled over, shoving his hands into his hair and pulling hard, eyes squeezed tightly shut. "Shut up, you motherfucker! I do not want to kill myself! I am _not_ going to kill myself!!"

At this, Max could not contain herself. She flew off of the couch and wrapped her hands around his biceps as he faltered and fell to his knees. "Alec!" she cried out as he doubled over, and her arms moved to wrap around him. She could hear his teeth grinding together as he made an angry, desperate noise in the back of his throat, like he was trying to scream with his mouth shut. He buckled over until his forehead was almost touching the floor, then without warning, he straightened, sending Max falling backwards at the sudden movement.

Max sat there, arms braced against the floor to keep her upright. Alec had pushed back until he was sitting on his heels, and his head fell back until he was staring at the ceiling. His bare chest heaved with panting breaths. It reminded her so much of that time, months ago, after he had almost snapped her neck.

"Alec?" she asked hesitantly, not sure what to do for him. So many of the things she had done over the past months had made it worse, so that she was afraid to take any action.

"I'm okay," he said with an exhalation of breath. His head rolled to the side and then down. Head tilted, he raised his eyebrows slightly, and there was a ghost of a smirk on his face. "You know, for a crazy person, that is," he added with a huff.

Max sat up and frowned at him again. "Don't," she breathed, stiffening.

Alec ran and hand over his face and shook his head. "Yeah. Sorry. Seems I've sorta developed a perverse sense of humor." Alec rocked backwards until his butt hit the floor, then scooted back away from her, until his back hit the wall underneath the window. He drew up his knees, then propped his forearms on them, letting his hands hang slack. He stared at her, and the ghost of a smirk became a fully formed manifestation. "But you always thought I was a pervert, right?"

A half-laugh, half-sob tore out of Max's throat, and she rolled her eyes at him. It amazed her that he could be so blasé about the whole situation. He had a voice in his head that was apparently telling him to kill himself--her heart stuttered at the thought--and he was making jokes. She didn't know whether or not to be happy about this development, since it seemed to be so much closer to the way he used to be, or worried that he might be about to crack. She figured she would have to reserve judgment until she heard the whole story.

She pushed herself backward as Alec had, stopping when her back came to rest against the couch. They sat at right angles to each other, Alec against the wall and Max against the couch. Alec's body language seemed to portray a don't-give-a-fuck-anymore attitude, while Max went back into her comforting, cat-curled-in-on-itself position. They sat like that for a little while, just staring at each other, until Max felt compelled to break the silence.

"How bad is it?" she asked, working to keep her tone completely level. "The voice," she added to clarify, in case his self-proclaimed perverse sense of humor would choose to misinterpret her question.

Alec sighed and let his head fall back against the wall. "Guess that depends on your definition of _bad_." He paused, pursing his lips as he thought about how to answer that question. He shrugged lightly and decided to go with the truth. No point in glossing over the ugly details at this juncture.

"It wasn't much, at first. Just here and there. Little whispers in my head, telling me things I didn't want to hear. Making sure I never forgot what I was. Got to be that it wasn't just here and there, though, and it wasn't just a whisper. Two days ago, I woke up to it in my head. It hasn't shut up since, so I guess that counts as pretty bad, huh?"

Max bit her lip at his confession. She knew he wouldn't want her pity, but, _God_, how she wished he would just accept some form of comfort.

Alec shook his head, all expression falling from his face as his eyes unfocused and turned inward. He fell silent. After half a minute, Max had opened her mouth to speak, about to prompt him back into talking, when Alec's face transformed with a look of angry determination. He pulled his head away from the wall suddenly and then slammed it back again, so hard that she heard the window above him rattle.

Max jerked at the action, words dying in her mouth as she was reminded of the way he had been slamming his head against the wall in the shower earlier. It all made her feel so helpless. He'd been hiding so much from her, all this time. How could she possibly help him deal with it when she barely had time to deal with it herself? Things were so much worse than she had thought. Which shouldn't have surprised her that much, really. Alec had never been big on asking for help until it was too late. Even after it was too late, she still usually had to figure it out for herself and butt in where she wasn't wanted.

He had said earlier that violence usually did the trick to silence the inner voice. Abusing his head against the wall must have accomplished this goal, because his eyes cleared and locked with hers again.

Alec had finally dropped the mask he always wore around her, and the evidence of the internal battle he had been waging weighed heavily on him. He looked so tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of _living_, and it was that thought that scared her the most. Those tired eyes closed, and when he spoke again, all of the humor had dropped from his voice.

"Even now, while we're talking, I can kinda hear it in the back of my head. It's sort of like when you have the TV on in the background, and you can ignore it sometimes, but sometimes it takes all of your attention, even when you don't want it to."

Alec's head fell forward, and he buried his hands in his hair. His entire body hummed with tension. "I don't know how much longer I can hang on, Max. I'm just not strong enough."

Max couldn't stand even the short distance between them any longer. She crawled over to him and sat down beside him. She placed her right hand softly on the back of his neck, over his barcode, then let her other hand come to rest on his knee. She leaned in to him, until her head came to rest against his.

"You _are_ strong, Alec," she said firmly. "You managed to survive twenty years at Manticore. Twenty _years_. I know I used to make light of it, but that's probably because I never wanted to think about the things you must have gone through. You survived it, when a lot of others didn't. You _endured_ it, Alec. I can't say the same. I ran. If anyone's weak here, it's me."

Alec let out a bark of a laugh at this. Max weak. That was just fuckin' hysterical. He lifted his head and turned it to look at her, and there was that look again, the one that had sent him fleeing from the bedroom earlier. He closed his eyes and chose not to think about everything that look implied. He just enjoyed the comforting feel of her warm hand against his neck. He let out a small sigh and leaned into her touch, for once, just letting himself be comforted.

Max rubbed her thumb slowly up and down against the smooth skin of his neck, smile ghosting across her lips as he leaned into her. The action gave her hope that maybe this time, he would not push her away. She would lend him what strength she could, and maybe this time, he would be willing to accept it. Her lips quirked as she found the flutter of hope made her feel almost giddy. She gave the back of his neck a gentle squeeze, and bumped her head lightly against his.

"But you tell anybody I said I was weak, I am totally gonna kick your ass."

It must have been all of the built up tension in the room, pushing to be released. At Max's threat, Alec threw back his head and laughed. He laughed until tears leaked from the corners of his eyes, and he had trouble drawing breath. His laughter was infectious, and Max found herself joining him. They leaned against each other as their hysterics made them weak, until the laughter eventually died off and silence reigned once again. Alec ran a hand over his face to wipe away the tears, then leaned until his back was resting against the wall once more. Max sat at an angle to him, leaning her shoulder against the wall for support but positioned so she could still see his face.

They sat for a while in silence, but this time it wasn't strained. It was as if their fits of laughter had purged some of the pent up emotion, and released some of the pressure from the room. It was Max who finally broke the silence.

"Earlier... " she started hesitantly, looking down at the floor, knowing that she was about to breach the topic that was most sensitive to him. "… the voice… you said it started up _again_."

At this, Alec eyes flicked to hers, then flicked away, but in the brief moment they had met hers, she saw the panic in them. He had been able to finally speak about what was going on with him, but she knew that it was the _why _that was the most important. The _why _behind the voice in his head was the thing that was tearing him down. She hoped that if he talked about it, it might help him exorcise his inner demons.

"When did it start the first time, Alec?" she asked, watching for his reaction. Just as she suspected, he shut down. His face became a stony mask, and he stared at the opposite wall, as if he hadn't heard her. The only thing that gave away that he was listening was that his hands had clenched into tight fists.

Max held her breath for a moment, and then dared to ask the question she knew was the last he wanted to hear. "What happened at Manticore?"

The question hit home, and the mask cracked. His eyes rolled heavenward, as if he were seeking strength, and they glistened with tears he refused to shed. His bare chest heaved as emotions threatened to overtake him.

"Don't make me talk about that," he begged, his voice breaking on the words. He would tell her anything else, _anything_, but he couldn't tell her about _that_.

Max found herself blinking back her own tears at the fear in his voice. She hated to cause him more pain, but she somehow knew that he would never be able to fight this thing until he confronted what happened back then.

"You said you stopped it _before_," she continued, her voice low. She brought her hand up to touch his shoulder, than ran it down his arm until she held his hand in hers. "Maybe if you talk about what happened, you can figure out what it was that let you stop it that first time."

He turned his head toward her, letting it roll against the wall. His eyes met hers again, and his were now red-rimmed from his refusal to blink, in case tears might fall. "_Max_," he breathed, and her name became a plea. _God, don't make me do this. Please don't make me do this._

Max reached up her free hand and placed it on his cheek. "_Please_, Alec. You've already come so far."

Alec closed his eyes and turned his head, causing her hand to fall away from his cheek. He pulled his other hand out of hers, then brought both hands up to grip the back of his neck as his head fell forward. His breathing was getting out of control again, close to hyperventilating.

He had to do this. He knew he had to do this. But he was scared. He wasn't sure if he had the strength to relive what had happened to him. Not with that goddamn voice constantly fucking with him. Tremors ran through his body, and for a moment, he was afraid he was going to lose it. Panic welled up in him, and he felt like his heart was trying to escape from his chest. But then Max's hand settled on his bare back, and it felt like warmth spread out from the place she touched him through his whole body. The tremors faded, and he sagged in relief. He took in deep, fast breaths through his mouth as he tried to steady his pounding heart.

"Wait," he managed to get out between breaths. "Just... give me a minute."

As he breathed through the panic attack, Max began to rub small circles on his back. Although he knew it was meant as a comfort, he had a different reaction. Guilt surged through him. Max had done so much, given up so much, to stay here with him. What had he done for her in the past three months?

Nothing. Nothing but lie to her. Hurt her. Use her.

The voice in his head was right. It was time that he grew a pair and finish what he started--but not the action from five and a half weeks ago. He needed to finish what he started tonight.

He needed to tell her. All of it.

Alec lifted his head and sat back, feeling Max's hand slide from his back as he moved. He let his head fall back against the wall, and through his peripheral vision, he could see Max fold her arms and rest them on her knees, waiting patiently. He wondered how much it was costing her, that patience. Max and patience were two words he never would have normally put in the same sentence. He was sure that he had been one big frustration for her, over the past couple of months. It was just one more strike against him.

_Go ahead. Tell her all about it. Tell her everything. It won't change anything. It's not like you're gonna pour your heart out to her and then, boom, you're cured. You can't be rid of me that easy._

Alec's jaw clenched with determination. It didn't matter. Whether it made things better or worse, he was going to go through with it. He was tired of living like this. Tired of trying to hide what was going on with him. Tired of pretending that things were okay when they were not. Most of all, he was tired of that goddamn voice.

_The only way you're gonna shut me up is with a bullet._

Alec figured it was time to find out. Chances were slim to none that this would actually help, but he was ready to give anything a shot at this point. Anything was better than a bullet.

Alec forced his jaw to relax, drawing in a deep, cleansing breath. He closed his eyes, and prepared to go back to Hell.

* * *

"The first time they sent me to Psy Ops, I was four years old." 

At his words, Max's throat tightened. He was finally going to talk about it. Manticore. Psy Ops. No _you wouldn't understand_, no _you weren't there_. He was going to trust her enough to open up about what had happened back then. She let herself get so distracted by the fact that he was finally talking to her about it that she almost missed the import of what he had said.

"_Four?_" she repeated in a horrified whisper.

"Yeah," Alec replied, his voice a bit hoarse. He opened his eyes and slid them to her, a sickly smile on his face, before they flicked away again. "I had bad dreams."

Alec stared ahead, but he wasn't seeing the opposite wall of their apartment. He was looking inward, remembering. "We'd been in combat training. There was this X5 in my unit, he just wasn't getting the move they were trying to show us. So the trainer he… he uh… snapped his neck. Right in front of us. Proving a point, ya know? _This is what could happen if you don't learn the moves._ Well, I… ummm … I started waking up in the middle of the night, screaming. I kept hearing the sound of his neck snapping. I kept seeing his face, the look on it as his eyes glazed over. Dead eyes."

A pained look crossed Alec's face. "I can't even remember his designation, but I can still see his face." He fell silent for a moment, then shook his head slightly to clear the image of a dead four-year-old from his mind.

"Anyway, I'm sure you can imagine what happened. Can't let our little soldiers have any weaknesses, right? A four-year-old with bad dreams? Could be a sign aberrant behavior. Though thinking about it now, maybe they were right to send me off to Psy Ops."

"You don't really believe that, do you?"

Alec tilted his head toward Max and gave her that weak, half smile. "Nah. I guess not. That wasn't really when this all started, anyway. But I figured, if I'm gonna talk about this shit, might as well get it all off my chest, huh?"

Max returned his half-hearted smile. "Yeah. Might as."

"I spent a week that time. Seemed like an eternity, at that age. They finally cut me loose, and I guess they didn't do too much damage. No matter how many nightmares I had after that, I never let it show…." He trailed off. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter. "I've seen so many horrible things in my life, Max. Done so many things. It all comes back to me at night."

"You still have nightmares?" Max asked.

"Yeah. Every night, pretty much. But I've learned to live with them. Hide them. Got real good at it too. We been sharing that bed for how long now? Bet you never knew."

Max frowned, upset that she hadn't been able to sense his problem. "No. I didn't."

Alec nodded, a satisfied look on his face. "Neither did they. Not after that first time. You'll probably find this hard to believe, but I was always really good at learning my lessons."

Alec turned his head away from Max before he spoke again. What he was about to say was probably a touchy subject with her. Which was fine, because he was still a little touchy about it himself. "The next time they took me, it was when your unit broke out. They took all of us. Your twins."

Max closed her eyes, because she was afraid to look at him. She didn't think she could stand it if he looked at her with accusation in his eyes.

She'd never really given much thought to those she had left behind. Back then, she'd been so concerned with surviving, avoiding Manticore, finding her lost brothers and sisters, she'd never really considered what they would do to those left behind.

"It was six weeks that time. Had to make sure that we weren't gonna bolt like you guys. Guess they couldn't afford to lose any more expensive bioweaponry units."

Max reached out hesitantly to touch Alec's arm, afraid that he would shy away from her. "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault." His brow furrowed in thought, and he fell silent for a few seconds. Then he turned and gave her a wry look. "Okay, well, maybe it was sorta your fault, but it's not like I blame you. _Much_," he added, and there was a teasing note in his tone that made her heart constrict. "The rest of us might've done the same thing if we would've thought about it long enough. I don't know. Maybe we were more scared of what was out there than we were of Manticore. The place may have been full of sick, twisted bastards, but it was the only home we knew."

Alec sighed heavily, then continued his story. "That was the first time they used the laser on me. They tried to reprogram us, like we were goddamn computers. We had to be reconditioned, you see, to make sure that any desire to form attachments was flushed out of our systems. Made sure we'd only be concerned with our own survival, and following orders. Just in case that didn't work, they broke up our unit so we couldn't get together and conspire to form another escape. Even put us in solitary cells for a while, instead of the barracks. Made sure that we had no one. No one to rely on but ourself."

At this point, Alec ducked his head and swallowed hard. "I hated being alone," he whispered, embarrassed to admit yet another weakness. He hadn't realized just how many he had until he started to admit them all to Max.

Max's gaze turned inward as she thought about what Alec had just said. When she first met him, she'd thought he was so self-involved, that the only person he cared about was himself. She'd never even considered that he seemed that way because Manticore had done everything they could to _make _him that way. Yet even this, he had overcome.

She thought of all the times that Alec had helped her on Eyes Only missions when she had asked, even though she knew that he had hated them. When White had captured him, he had been willing to let his own head explode instead of take her life, though she hadn't thought about it like that at the time. He had tried to help her save Logan, though when he didn't show, she had automatically assumed the worst of him.

The curse of hindsight for a transgenic was that it was so much sharper than 20/20, and it was not Alec's character that suffered when looking back. It was her own.

Alec had stubbornly inserted himself into her life. He always come back, no matter how many times she pushed him away. She could see now that it wasn't because he loved to piss her off, though that had probably been part of it. It was because he didn't want to be alone anymore.

Max shook her head. Even before she knew him, she had been the cause of so much pain in his life. "I don't know what to say," she said honestly. She could tell him she was sorry again, but what had happened to him deserved more than belated apologies. How could she make up for something like that?

"Don't say anything," Alec told her. "Just listen." Now that he had started talking about it, he had to tell it all. He'd opened the floodgates, and there was too much pressure behind to close them now. She may not like everything that he was going to say, but he had to say it.

Max sighed and smiled a bit. There was no accusation in his tone. No blame. Could she have been so generous if their positions had been reversed? Probably not. She had always been one to hold a grudge. "That I can do," she told him.

"The third time they took me was when I failed to complete an assigned mission. I couldn't... I failed to eliminate the targets."

"The Berrisfords," Max supplied in a hushed voice. She remembered how he had been, as he broke down beside Berrisford's comatose daughter. After that, she had began to look at him differently. It was then that she saw that he might be more than just a Manticore soldier.

"Yeah. Manticore didn't take too kindly to the fact that I might possibly have feelings, and that I let them get in the way. _Emotions are the enemy_." His voice trailed off as he repeated those words, the ones he had heard so often repeated in his head. His eyes lost focus, a frown marring his features.

"They tried to beat it out of me first, then threw me in solitary for a while. But I guess they figured that wasn't enough, so the shipped me off to Psy Ops again. They fucked with my head for two months that time. They tried to make me forget. But I was stubborn. Stubborn and stupid. I just wouldn't let her go. I should've just let go."

Alec's breaths came faster, and Max saw a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead. His voice took on a strained tone as he continued. "They brought in one of the telepaths this time. They could crawl inside your head, fucking mind-rape you. They'd twist things around until you didn't know what was real anymore. Turn you inside out until you'd do anything to make it stop. You would do anything Manticore wanted you to do and not give a damn, just as long as they would make it stop."

Alec curled in on himself. He had all of the sudden gone from hyperventilating to the point where he could barely breathe. It felt as if someone had stacked several cinder blocks on his chest. He sucked in a gasping breath, then cried out, "I had to make it stop!"

"Hey," Max said, her voice low and comforting as she placed a hand on his back. "Hey. You're okay. They're gone, Alec. They can't hurt you anymore."

Alec whipped his head around to face her, causing Max to jerk at the sudden action. His eyes seemed like pits of blazing green fire. "You're wrong," he said, his voice choked with fear.

Without warning, Alec pushed himself off the floor and spun around to face the window behind him. Max barely had time to blink before he had thrown up the sash and slipped outside, heading up the fire escape to the roof.

The roof. _Shit_.

"Alec!" Max cried out in panic. She surged to her feet and hauled herself out the window, scrambling up after him, fear turning her veins to ice.

As her feet pounded up the metal rungs of the fire escape, she prayed to any god that would listen that history was not about to repeat itself.

* * *

Max's feet hit the roof at a run, her eyes rapidly scanning for Alec. She came to an abrupt halt as she found him standing next to the edge of the roof, facing the ocean. His hands were resting on the ledge of the of the roof, and his eyes were closed. The strong ocean breeze ruffled his short hair. He took a deep, slow breath, held it, then let it out slowly; he repeated this process several times, calming himself. 

Finally, he opened his eyes and looked over at her. "Needed some air." He had the gall to grin sheepishly at her.

"Don't scare me like that!" Max blurted out, plopping her butt down hard on the ledge as she was still having trouble controlling her own breathing.

"Sorry," Alec said, then ducked his head in embarrassment. "Just seemed like the walls were kinda closing in on me all of the sudden. Guess you can add claustrophobia to my endless list of brain malfunctions."

Max ran a hand through her hair in frustration. "Just stop it. You're not crazy, all right? I do not believe that. I _will not _believe that."

Alec let out a short laugh. "Why not? Because you don't want it to be true? Wanting something doesn't make it so, Max."

"Well, saying you're crazy doesn't make it so either, Alec," Max shot back angrily.

Alec turned his head so he could meet her eyes. There was a hint of challenge there. "You haven't heard the whole story yet."

Max was never one to back down from a challenge. She returned his stare, as if she were daring him to prove his claim. "Then tell it to me. Tell me when it started."

They engaged in a minor battle of wills, staring each other down. Alec was the first to look away. He stared out at the dark ocean, transgenic vision detecting the occasional hint of a wave. He drew in one more deep breath, then sighed.

"The last time Psy Ops took me, it was because of him. 493. _Ben_."

Max clenched her teeth together, steeling herself for what was about to come. This was a touchy subject, for both of them, but they could not avoid it. As she had suspected, Ben was at the heart of Alec's problems. But Alec fell silent, unable to continue. After a minute passed, Max broke the silence, hoping she could ease him back into talking.

"Remember when we first met? You came strolling into my cell, all confident swagger. You shocked the hell out of me. I thought you were Ben, back from the dead. All I could think of was how were you ever going to forgive me for what I had done? But then you gave me that little smirk, and you had such a devilish look in your eyes, I knew you couldn't be Ben, even before you told me your designation." A grin split Max's face as she remembered, and a laugh bubbled up from inside her. "And then you started _talking_, and I knew for _sure _that you weren't Ben."

Alec grinned a little at this. "I guess I'm lucky you didn't go with your second choice for my name, huh?"

Max's smile broadened. "Not too late to change my mind. _Dick_."

Max turned around and leaned her arms against the ledge, so that they were both facing the ocean in the distance. The smile fell from her face. "I think part of the reason why I wanted to hate you from the start is that you _weren't _Ben. I'd never have the chance to tell him I was sorry. For not trying harder. For being afraid. I'd..." Max's voice faltered, and she had to clear her throat before she could continue. "I'd never find out if he would have forgiven me."

"There wasn't anything to forgive, Max. He didn't want to go back. _You _wouldn't have wanted him to go back." Alec fell silent, and she saw his fingers whiten as he pushed against the ledge of the building. The muscles in his jaw bunched as he clenched his teeth.

Max remembered their conversation, after he had broken his own hand to escape his bonds and had come within a heartbeat of snapping her neck. She remembered the horror in his voice, as he remembered.

_What they would've done to him would've been worse than death. I know, because they did it to me instead._

Max swallowed hard. He had to talk about this. He'd never be able to heal if he didn't talk about the worst part of it. "What did they do to you, Alec?"

Alec drew in a shaky breath and counted to ten in his head, progressively relaxing his muscles as the numbers increased. The voice in his head continued its tirade, but he could focus enough to tune most of it out. What he couldn't tune out was Max. She kept prodding him in the direction he really didn't want to go. But, damn her, he knew she was right to do it. He'd decided he was going to tell her all of it. He had to tell her all of it. He just... he just... _couldn't._

Alec bent forward, letting his head come to rest against the ledge, body rocking back and forth. "I can't," he whispered.

"You can," Max said quietly, but her tone brooked no argument.

Alec pushed away from the ledge and turned to walk away from her, but she grabbed his arm and spun him back around. "I _can't, _Max!" Alec cried out, feeling the panic well up in him again.

"Yes, you can. Just one more thing, Alec. Just one. You can't stop now." When he tried to look away, Max reached up to grab his head, forcing him to look into her eyes. "Look at me, Alec. _Look _at me. You are going to get through this, okay? We're gonna talk this bitch out, then we can move on. We can figure out how to make things better. If you hold back this one last thing, how are you ever going to put it behind you?"

Alec looked down into Max's face. She was so determined. She was strong. Not like him. "I don't think I'll ever be able to put it behind me."

"How do you know if you don't even try?" Even though Max's voice sounded sure, she felt herself beginning to waver. Alec looked so scared. She wanted to make that look go away, but she knew she couldn't. All she could do was help him get through it and be there for him when it was all over. The rest was up to Alec.

The muscles in Alec's body tensed up, as if he was about to bolt. Max found herself automatically transferring the weight to the balls of her feet, and her hands trailed down from his face to wrap around his biceps. She wasn't going to let him run. Not this time. Just when she thought she might have to get ready to tackle him, the tension eased. His shoulders slumped, and he let out the breath that he had been holding. He turned and shuffled over to one of the air conditioning units on the roof and sat down on the top.

Maybe it was Alec's perverse sense of humor, or maybe it was just the universe fucking with her, but he sat in the exact same spot, in the exact same position, on top of the exact same air conditioning unit, as he had that night in the rain, five and a half weeks ago.

They had come full circle.

Max moved over to the air conditioning unit and sat down beside him, letting her leg brush up against his. She wasn't sure if she did it to comfort him, or herself. She leaned forward, letting her forearms rest against her thighs as she clasped her hands in front of her. Then she waited.

* * *

He felt so cold. The fear that was paralyzing him seeped into his veins, causing his body to chill in a way that had nothing to do with the temperature outside. Gooseflesh pricked his skin, and the tiny hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stood on end. He forgot to breathe. The only thing that kept him grounded was that one spot of warmth on his leg, where the heat of Max's body seeped into his own. For one crazy moment, he thought about wrapping himself around her warmth and allowing himself to forget. But that wouldn't accomplish anything. 

He couldn't hold on to her forever.

He opened his mouth to speak, but his voice failed him. He swallowed hard, then cleared his throat. "Do me a favor, Max?" he asked, cringing a bit at how his voice wavered.

"Anything."

"Just… don't interrupt me. If I stop, I don't know if I'll be able to get started again."

"Okay," Max replied simply.

She unclasped her hands and pushed against her legs, straightening. Then she turned her left hand--the one that was closest too him–palm up, leaving an open invitation. He stared at her hand for a while, then slowly reached forward to grasp it. Once he had a hold of it, his hand tightened convulsively.

He imagined that he was standing on the edge of a precipice. Below him, shrouded in a swirling mist, was the last of what he had been holding back. Six months of his life that he never wanted to think about, ever. Down there lay salvation or damnation. At this point, he didn't think he really cared which one it was, as long as it was _something_.

What he was really afraid of was that he would tell Max everything, and that it wouldn't do him any good. That he would be stuck with this voice in his head forever. If that was the case, he knew--despite what he had told Max--that he wouldn't allow _forever _to go on much longer.

Drawing from the strength she was offering, Alec stepped off the edge and plunged into darkness of memory.

* * *

"After my stint in Psy Ops over the botched assassination of Berrisford, I gave them what they wanted. I played the true blue soldier. Followed every order, toed every line. I didn't do anything that would cause them to want to mind-fuck me again. I knew how to play the game. Got to be that I could slip on the perfect soldier persona like a mask, I guess. There was 494, and then there was me, the _real _me, hiding behind." 

Alec unconsciously rubbed his thumb over the top of Max's hand, and his words were suddenly wistful. "You were the first person that gave a name to the _real _me." It lasted only a moment, then his voice became cold, brittle. "Anything they did, anything they made me do, it never touched me. 494 was my shield. I was safe."

Alec's grip tightened on her hand, and he stopped breathing. "Then one night, they came for me."

He began to tell her what had happened, and the world around him faded. As the words fell from his lips, his mind traveled back, reliving the memory.

_It had to have been well after 0200 hours. He had been sound asleep, passed out face down on his bunk hours before from exhaustion. He'd beaten a record number of opponents that day in hand-to-hand training, and although his body ached, he had been proud of his skill. Their trainer had even said that he was impressed. It had been a good day._

_The next thing he knew, he jerked awake as he felt a knee pressing down hard into his back and his arms being jerked roughly behind him. "Hey," he protested, and received a backhanded blow to the side of his head for his minor outburst._

"_Shut up," the guard had growled at him, snapping restraints on his wrists. Alec hardly had time to process the information before he felt similar restraints being snapped over his ankles, a chain linking the two sets of restraints together. He was jerked from the bed. Thanks to the restraints, he fell to his knees, pain radiating up his legs as he connected with the hard concrete. They jerked him to his feet, then proceeded to drag him out into the hall. _

_Once outside, one of the whitecoats was waiting, clipboard in hand, pen poised to take notes. "Watch him closely," she snapped at the guards as they dragged him past her. "He may be unstable."_

_At her words, Alec's brow furrowed in confusion. He tried to backpedal, but the guards would not allow it. As they turned a corner, then another, Alec soon realized where they were headed. He normally knew not to question Manticore's reasons for doing things, but panic overrode common sense._

"_Wait a minute," he told them, his voice cracking with fear. "Where are you taking me?" he asked, though he already knew the answer to the question. He tried to think of a reason for why they would be taking him __**there**__, but he came up with a blank. Ever since his last trip to that place, he'd been a good little soldier. He hadn't given them a single reason to punish him._

_They rounded another corner, and in front of him were a set of double doors that he had hoped he would never have to go through again. Several whitecoats were waiting outside the door, and worse than that, Sandoval._

_Alec dug in his feet, resisting with all his might. "No.no.no.no. Wait. Wait! I didn't do anything wrong!" he yelled, panic turning into complete terror._

_Unable to combat Alec's transgenic strength, the guard on his left said, "Clear." Both guards let go of him, but before he could react, the guard on his left hit him with a taser. His cried out as his body spasmed and he fell to the floor, crashing onto his side. The guards hauled him off of the floor, pulling him by his arms. He was unable to get his legs back under him, so they dragged behind him. As the doors parted for them, Alec turned his head to Sandoval. He sucked in ragged breath and screamed, __**"**__I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING WRONG!"_

_Sandoval eyed him coldly as he passed. "No," he said evenly. "But you might."_

_Alec continued to scream as they hauled him into Psy Ops, his terror shredding any dignity he had left._

"_**I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING WRONG!!**__"_

* * *

Alec gasped, his body jerking as he forced himself out of the memory. He heard Max make a little noise in the back of her throat, and then he realized that he was crushing her hand. He loosened his grip, but didn't let go. "Sorry," he murmured. 

"I'm good," Max replied easily, shrugging her shoulders. She forced herself not to flex her fingers as she mentally went _ouch. _If she had been an ordinary girl, he would have broken her hand. She knew Alec would feel guilty if he thought that he had hurt her, and he had enough on his shoulders already.

Alec nodded, then forced his mind to focus on his task. As much as he wanted to, he could not let himself become distracted.

"They never told me why. Just said that there was a chance my genetics were flawed. But I overheard one of the techs talking to Sandoval. He had the results of the autopsy on 493. They…" He faltered for a moment, unsure if he should tell her this next part. He knew it would upset her, but there was no holding back now. "They must've sliced up his brain. They were talking about cross sections and whatever, trying to find some sort of abnormality to explain why he went insane. And I thought, _This is it. They're gonna do that to me_. But they didn't. They had other plans for me."

"That first week, they wouldn't let me sleep. Not even a minute. Every time I was about to pass out, they'd dope me with stimulants to keep me awake. Had to be alert for the cat scans, MRIs, and whatever else they could think of. They did everything but actually cut me into pieces to see what made me tick. I remember that at one point, I was so tired, I wanted them to put a bullet in me just so I could get some fuckin' rest."

"I kept thinking that it would stop. That they'd verify whatever they needed to verify with their damn tests, and I could go back to playing the perfect soldier. I think it was about eight days later when they finally let me sleep--threw me in a cell and left me there for a day or two. I thought, _Finally, they're finished with me. _But they weren't. Not by a long shot."

"Next came the questions. God, there must've been like a millions questions. Weirdass questions that I guess were supposed to mean something, though fuck if I know what it was. Psychobabble shit, like what's this inkblot look like, you see an upside down turtle on the road, what do you do? What did I care about a fuckin' turtle? It wasn't in my mission parameters, was it? I guess they were gauging my reactions or something. Whatever it was, the whitecoats must not've liked my answers."

"After about two weeks of that, they brought in one of _them_. I remember when he walked in the room. I lost it. Any pride I had left was gone. I begged them not to let him near me, was in goddamn tears, but they didn't care. They didn't care at all."

* * *

"_Wake up, 494."_

"_Mmmph, wha?" he muttered, eyes heavy as he tried to surface. They hadn't returned him to his cell last night. Instead, they'd hooked a bunch of wires to his head and then retrained him in the exam chair. They'd given him a nice little cocktail of drugs to keep him sedated and compliant overnight, while their machines recorded his sleeping brain. _

"_I gave you an order, soldier."_

_He tried to obey. He really did. But apparently he wasn't quick enough. His eyes shot open and his back arched as electricity shot through his body. He cried out through clenched teeth, until abruptly, the pain stopped. His body crashed back down into the chair. His eyes were wide, and his breaths came fast and heavy._

_Sandoval stood in front of him, hands clasped behind his back, looking bored almost. Just another day at the office. "We have found that the testing to this point is not as conclusive as we had hoped. We are going to have to take some more extreme measures."_

_**Extreme measures. Oh, fuck me. **__"I'm not crazy," he said desperately, forgetting rank and title, everything he had ever been taught. _

_Sandoval frowned at him. "I must remember to keep your transgenic hearing in mind in the future. You've been hearing things you shouldn't."_

"_I'm not crazy," he repeated, trying to sit up further even though the restraints would not allow it. "It had to be the outside that made 493 crazy. There's nothing wrong with me, I swear it."_

"_That remains to be seen," Sandoval said calmly. Then the man leaned in closer and lowered his voice. "If it was up to me, I would just put a bullet in you and use your corpse for spare parts. But it seems that my superiors feel that it is still too early to give up on our investment in you. You are very fortunate, 494."_

_Sandoval straightened, giving the bottom of his suit jacket a sharp tug to adjust it. "Send him in," he said to the tech, who immediately picked up a nearby phone to comply with the order._

_A minute later, the door opened and a young man came in. He looked to be around twenty or so, and had those perfect looks that identified him as transgenic, but he was...softer somehow, and clearly not a soldier. He was also wearing the grey pants and jacket that was Manticore's standard uniform for the Psy Ops core._

"_494, I believe you know 389," Sandoval said, gesturing to the telepath._

_His heart stopped. His breathing stopped. Everything just... stopped._

"_No," he whispered in horrified protest. Then the words poured out of him like a torrent, frantic and out of control. _

"_You don't have to do this. You don't have to do this. I'm okay. I'm fine. Not crazy at all. Don't do this. Please, don't. Please," he begged, and as 389 stepped closer to him, his voice broke, and tears began to fall. "No.no.no.no.no.no. I've been good. I'll be good. Please. I'll do anything you want me to. Anything! Just don't. Don't. Don't!"_

_Sandoval was unmoved. He glanced over at the tech, instructing him tersely, "Keep me apprised," then he spun on his heel and left the room. He was alone in the room with 389 and the tech._

_His eyes flicked to 389. His voice shook heavily as he tried to reason with him. "How c-can you do this? You're one of __**us. **__You're __**tr-transgenic**__. How can you do this to me?"_

_389 stared down at him, his eyes unreadable and emotionless. "I'm just following orders." 389 closed his eyes and placed his hand on 494's forehead._

_Then the screaming began._

* * *

Alec bit his bottom lip hard to bring himself out of the darkness of his memory. He was okay. He was not at Manticore. Manticore was gone, and Max was here, and they couldn't hurt him anymore. 

"It hurt. _God, it hurt. _They kept telling me to stop resisting, that it wouldn't hurt if I didn't resist, but you can't _not _fight it. Might as well tell a woman that's being raped to just lay there and take it. 'Cause that's what it was. Rape. He just kept forcing his way in, ramming at any defenses I tried to build up. It was... just..."

Alec clamped his jaw shut as he felt his chin begin to wobble and his eyes begin to sting. He would not cry. Manticore was gone, 389 was hopefully a pile of goddamn ash, and he would not give them the satisfaction of making him cry. He ran his free hand through his hair, his right hand still holding on to Max's left.

"He kept putting these images in my mind. Dead people. Missing teeth. Barcodes. I didn't know what it was at the time, but I guess it was the people that Ben had killed. It went on for weeks. It got to be where I thought maybe they were _my _memories. Maybe_ I_ had killed all of those people. He kept twisting things, taking my own memories and changing them. He would make me see myself killing those people. After a while, I didn't know what was real anymore. I tried to resist. To hold on to what I knew was true. But I couldn't."

Alec sighed. "Even now, even though I know that it was Ben that killed those people, I couldn't tell you that I didn't kill them. Not for certain. In my mind, they made me capable of such things. I can see every single one of their faces, can see exactly how they died."

Max placed her right hand over their joined ones. "You didn't kill them, Alec."

"I know that. But it doesn't make me _feel _like I didn't kill them." He shook his head. "They could do that to you. They could turn you until you become this _thing_, pure instinct and animalistic response. At that point, I would've done anything they asked, if they would just get that motherfucker to leave me alone."

"They threw me back in a cell. I don't know for how long. Days, I think. Time didn't mean much, anymore, when every day was Hell. I kept having these flashes. Memories. I didn't know if they were mine or not, and that scared me. Maybe they were right. Maybe I was crazy. I figured if I wasn't before I went in there, I sure as Hell was gonna be by the time they were done with me. And that's exactly what happened."

"They'd poked, prodded, and scanned me, mind-fucked me until I didn't even know my own designation anymore, and they still weren't satisfied. Had to be fucking thorough, didn't they? Bad idea to have a psycho killing machine on your hands."

"I thought that things couldn't get any worse. _Stupid_. There was always worse. They needed to be sure I was one-hundred percent combat effective. I'd reached the end of my rope, but they didn't care. They needed to be sure."

Alec finally let go of her. The hand that had been holding hers drifted up, as of its own accord, and began to rub his right eye. Although it should not have been possible, his body tensed even tighter, and his face scrunched as phantom pain assaulted him.

"That's when it started," he whispered through clenched teeth, unconsciously curling forward into a semi-fetal position, as if he could protect himself from his own memories.

* * *

_They had to drag him into the chair. He wasn't capable of supporting himself. His mind just didn't give a damn anymore. They had tried shocking him with a taser to get him moving, but he had barely flinched. His body had jerked and he had moaned softly, but that was all they got out of him. He didn't care what they did to him. He was beyond the point of caring. Or at least he had thought._

_When they took him to a different room this time, his body sagged with relief. Sandoval was there, waiting. No 389. No mind-splitting pain as the telepath forced his way into his brain. _

_He was in the chair and restrained before his mind would focus enough to let him realize where he was. He looked above, and saw the equipment hovering over him. His blood ran cold. He remembered this. He hadn't seen this since he was twelve years old, but he remembered it. All the fear he had felt as a twelve-year-old boy came rushing back, and his body tensed from head to toe._

_Men and women in white lab coats descended, like rats. They scurried about, making adjustments, positioning the equipment, preparing him. He had muttered a feeble protest, but it was ignored. He was just an animal, after all. What did they care what he felt? Only when he felt the drug entering his system, beginning to paralyze him so he wouldn't be able to move, or blink--only when it was too late--did he begin to resist._

"_You know I'm not crazy," he said, eyes rolling toward Sandoval, his words heavy as the drug began to affect him. "Haven't you done enough?"_

_Sandoval moved forward to stand next to him, a dispassionate look on his face. "Are you questioning our methods, 494?" He raised his eyebrows slightly. "As I am sure you are aware, we don't have a need for soldiers who question authority."_

_The threat was there, and it was clear, even to his bruised and battered brain. After everything he had been through, that threat held more promise for him than what they were about to do to him. He clenched his teeth and jerked against his restraints, causing the metal of the chair to groan in protest and causing the tech that was attaching electrodes to him to fall back a couple of steps. Sandoval didn't flinch. _

"_Just put a bullet in me, then," he growled out. "End this. __**Sir**__."_

_Sandoval's lips quirked every so slightly at this. "That would be a waste of valuable resources, soldier." Sandoval turned his head to the tech that was working on 494, staring at him until the man got the message and scurried off to the other side of the room. Then Sandoval turned his gaze back to 494, and there was something like hatred behind his eyes._

"_You've been a thorn in my side for a long time, 494. You've always had this rather annoying ability to resist various methods to delve into your mind. You seem to want to cling to this idea you have of __**self**__. Well, I've had just about enough of that."_

_Sandoval stepped back, and motioned the lead scientist over to him, a fifty-something woman with graying hair pulled back into a tight bun. Sandoval never took his eyes off of 494 as he spoke to the woman. _

"_Break him."_

_He wanted to scream, to rage against the injustice of it, but he couldn't. The drug had made its way through his veins, weighing down his body to the point that he couldn't barely move. The only thing he could do is watch as the tech made last minute adjustments on the machine above him, the red light glowing softly as the laser was primed._

"_Level three," he heard someone say next to him. He couldn't look, because his eyes could no longer move. As the red light brightened, he could feel his heart pound faster. He only hoped that his heart would fail him at last, and he could end his torment._

_He gasped when the laser hit his eyelid, red light blinding him. The odd burning sensation began, spreading out from the center of his eye and then pushing back through the eye into his brain. The burning turned into searing pain as someone flipped a switch, and the process of reprogramming began._

_He began to see things. Hear things. Over and over._

_**Emotions are a liability. Emotions are the enemy.**_

_**Duty. Honor. Obedience.**_

_**Follow orders. Do not question authority. **_

_**Collateral damage is acceptable in order to achieve mission parameters… **_

_They were reprogramming him. They had tried to do it before. Erase everything that made him who he was and start over. Create the perfect Manticore soldier._

_He had held on the last time. Even though he had only been twelve years old, he had been able to shield the core of himself, so that something remained after they were done with him. But he was just so tired. Before, he hadn't already gone through two months of Hell before they tried to brainwash him. He didn't know if he could make it, this time._

_For months, he went under the laser. Day after day after day. And every day, it seemed like he was losing little bits of himself. As his mind declined, his body went along with it._

_His eyes became red-rimmed and sunken. The white of his right eye had turned blood red, the repeated use of the laser bursting capillaries. His cheeks had hollowed out from the weight he had lost. He barely slept, and he lost interest in food, so they began to feed him intravenously_

_They took him back to his cell at night. It was the only relief he received from that droning voice, but eventually, he didn't even have that. Eventually, they took him back to his cell, but he could still hear it. He could still hear the voice of Manticore in his head, constantly whispering things to him. And eventually, that voice began to change._

_It wasn't just the voice of whatever employee had recorded Manticore's reprogramming tracks. It melded with his own, becoming something else altogether, something they hadn't foreseen. Maybe it was his mind's way of dealing with what was happening to him. Who knew? Whatever the reason, he knew it was something he knew he had to keep hidden. He would be dead if they found out. They would cut out his brain and dice it up to see if they could figure out how to avoid such mistakes in the future._

_Even in his declining state, he could still see the irony of it. Months and months of testing to make sure that he wasn't crazy, and Manticore had finally driven him to it._

_He withdrew deep into himself, so deep that he became lost. When they hauled him back into the chair and set the laser on him the next time, there was nothing left to resist._

_He broke._

* * *

"ALEC!" 

His eyes shot open as he felt a stinging slap across his face. His eyes scanned wildly, and he found he was no longer sitting beside Max on top of the air conditioning unit. He was crouched down in front of it, curled into a ball. Max was on her knees in front of him, eyes wide and panicked. He must've done something to freak her out.

"Breathe, Alec," Max said unsteadily, her hands now on his shoulders.

He wondered at first why she would say something so stupid. He knew how to breathe. He'd done it every day since he popped out of whatever woman Manticore had paid a ridiculous amount of money to gestate him. _And Ben_. Couldn't forget about Ben. Crazy Ben. Crazy _Alec_. Two peas in a pod.

"_Breathe!_" Max yelled, giving his shoulders a firm shake.

His brows furrowed angrily. Why was she yelling at him? He'd had enough of that at Manticore to last a lifetime. On top of that, he had a fuckin' headache, and there was this funny, burning sensation in his chest. Couldn't she give him a damn break? He was about to tell her off, but when he opened his mouth to speak, he found himself sucking in a gasping breath.

Max visibly relaxed, pushing back to sit on her butt, legs bent in front of her. She ran a hand through her hair and blew out an exasperated breath.

"Oh," Alec said simply, chest heaving as he replenished the oxygen in his system. So maybe he didn't really know how to breathe after all.

Max gave him a pointed look, part frustration and part worry. "I swear, you're gonna give me a fuckin' heart attack before this night is done," she said, rubbing the spot on her chest over the overtaxed organ. "Zack would never forgive me."

Alec ran his hands over his face, then once again rubbed at his right eye as ghost pain pierced through it.

"Three months. Every day, for three fucking _months_, they used that motherfucking laser on me, destroying what was left of me." He sucked in another gasping breath. God, how long had he been holding it? "They broke me, Max. I was weak, and they broke me."

Max frowned. She remembered the Alec she had met in her cell--the cocky, arrogant, smartass. He was anything but broken. Anything but weak.

Alec looked up at her, and saw her opening her mouth to protest, but he held up a hand to stop her. "Don't. I need to finish, okay?"

Max nodded, then swung herself around and scooted back until she sat beside him, leaning against the air conditioning unit. She would let him finish it, his way.

Alec took in one more deep breath, then let it out slow, trying to release the tension from his shoulders. It didn't work very well. It would probably take him a month to work out all of the kinks in his muscles. He stretched his neck to the side until it popped, then rubbed it absently.

"After they were done with me, they put me in solitary for another month. To observe me, I guess. Make sure everything took. I think I just laid there for the first week. I don't know, it's kind of fuzzy. A lot of this was fuzzy, before… well, before I went off the deep end again."

"That first week, I was gone. There was no _me _anymore. There was only 494--my shield. The real me was lost. That was probably the only thing that saved me. 494 was what they wanted. When I was what they wanted, they left me alone for a while." Alec swallowed hard, eyes scrunching. "If they had pushed me any further, I think I would've been gone for good."

Alec let his head fall against the side of the air conditioning unit. He looked up at the dark sky above. The clouds were finally clearing, and he could see a hint of stars. He hoped that was a good sign.

"Maybe it was the silence," he continued, then rolled his head to look at Max, a sad smile on his face. "That month in solitary, it was so wonderfully silent. After a while, even the voice stopped." He shrugged. "I don't know how, it just did. The real me slowly reemerged, but I was careful about what I let them see. I'd give them what they wanted, but I was gonna play it my way. Whatever happened, I was never gonna let them hurt me again."

"After they sprung me, I made myself forget the worst parts of what they had done. It was the only way I could deal. It all became a bad dream, and I had lots of experience in dealing with those."

"And then I met you."

Max held her breath, afraid of what he might say. It was not like she had been very nice to him back then. She'd been just another person that hadn't understood him.

"You were so different. There was something about you, made me feel like I could be the real me. I felt like I didn't have to hide what I was with you. I liked that."

"That night, when you busted me out of jail... everything happened all over again. I lost myself, just like I did back then. There's still a part of me that's missing. It's buried somewhere, deep inside somewhere, but I just can't find it. That voice. It keeps getting in the way."

All of the sudden, Alec bent forward, resting his forehead on his knees while he shook his head back and forth. "I can't figure out how to get rid of it, Max. I can't get rid of Manticore. They're in my head. They're fuckin' gone, and I still can't escape them!"

Max ran a hand over Alec's hair, then let it come to rest on the back of his neck. He made a small, barely perceptible whimper as her hand touched his flesh, and it broke her heart. Her heart had broken so many times that night, as he told her of the horrors he had lived through.

"You can, Alec. It's just gonna take time."

Alec jerked upright, his face angry. "It's been almost a goddamn year! It's not gonna stop!"

"Yes, it will. You have to believe. You can do this, Alec. I know you can." Max stared back at him, letting him see the truth of her belief in her eyes.

Alec turned away. He wanted to believe her. He did. But nothing that had happened over the past three months had changed anything. Things had just gotten worse.

Max let the silence stand between them for a while. Nothing else needed to be said tonight. He had gone through enough. "Come on," Max said, getting to her feet and tugging on his arm. "No more talking. It's time to sleep. "

Alec went along without protest. Reliving his time in Psy Ops had worn him down, both physically and mentally. He let Max lead him down the fire escape and back into the apartment. He followed her into the bedroom, and allowed her to lower him down on what had become his side of the bed. Once he was lying down, Max moved to the other side of the bed and lie down beside him, on her side of the invisible line. He laid on his back, staring at the ceiling, unable to close his eyes. He wondered what Max thought of him now. Did she think he was weak? Did she think he was a failure?

Max laid on her side, watching Alec stare at the ceiling. She could practically see the wheels turning in his head. Was he still reliving what had happened to him?

She watched him for a minute, then she couldn't take any more. She couldn't just lie there while he was in pain. She sat up slightly, then slid her body over, crossing the line. She lifted his arm, then swiftly slid under, giving him no chance to reject the move. She rested her head on his chest, then wrapped her arms around him.

His body tensed, and she could feel him try to pull away. She didn't let it hurt her; she knew that he would. She knew now why Alec didn't allow himself to feel. It was easier not to.

But sometimes, the easy way was not always the right way.

Max tightened her arms around him, refusing to let him go. "_Max_..." he said, in a tone that said _don't_.

"'Just let me, Alec," she said quietly. He'd have to peel her off with all of his strength if he expected her to let him go.

His body stayed tense for a little while, but then she felt him gradually relax. His breathing slowed, and his eyelids finally fell. After a while, he slept. Only then did Max allow herself to relax. Her head rest on his bare chest, and her arms were wrapped around him; it wasn't much, but it was all she could give.

Soon, the sound of his deep, even breathing lulled her into sleep.

* * *

Alec's eyes slowly opened. Max was finally asleep. He had waited for what felt like forever for her to drift off. Damn shark DNA. He had let her think that he was asleep. It was easier that way. 

He stared at the ceiling, deep in thought. He remembered that he had once called Max a broken toy, but he was the one who was broken. He was the one who was holding her back.

They'd spent three months in this room, and Max had never once mentioned going back to Seattle. He figured she'd stay here with him indefinitely, put her life on hold, until he found that part of him that was missing.

Every day, when he looked at himself in the mirror, he knew that something was missing, something important that was an integral part of what had made him _Alec_. Max had found him at the fight club and brought him back from the edge, but not _all _of him. As much as he wanted her to, she didn't have all the answers. What had happened tonight had confirmed that he needed to find those answers. He needed to be whole again.

Alec continued to stare at the ceiling, long after Max had fallen asleep. He could feel the tiny hairs on his chest stir under Max's breath. He felt the warmth of her body as it was wrapped around his. It seemed that her body molded to his side perfectly, as if Manticore had designed them that way. He finally closed his eyes.

He had a decision to make.

* * *

A/N: I hope it was worth the wait. Please review, as I value your opinion and guidance. It is what makes the lack of sleep worth it. 


	18. Unsimple Solutions

Gone

By Inzane

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Dark Angel or the Linkin Park song "Shadow of the Day." The ridiculously angsty plot, however, is all mine.

Summary: How much abuse can a guy take before he snaps? Events in Hello, Goodbye take a different turn. AU from that point.

A/N: This chapter is actually of a somewhat reasonable length, to make up for the sore eyes I gave everyone on the last chapter. Sorry about that.

* * *

Chapter 18: Un-simple Solutions

The sun blazed. Only the occasional puffy cloud dared to threaten its dominance of the afternoon sky. Despite this, its warmth never reached Max's skin. She was cold--so cold that she feared she might never be warm again. She wrapped her arms about herself, trying to combat the chill, but it was a useless gesture. This cold came from within.

Max stood in the alley behind the apartment building. Her body was bathed in sunlight, but her heart was cloaked in shadow. She dug her fingers deep into the flesh of her upper arms, using the pain to try to keep her emotions in check but failing miserably. For the hundredth time that day, she wondered how it had come to this.

He was leaving. Alec was _leaving_.

He was across from her, leaning against the seat of his motorcycle, head bowed and legs and arms crossed. A bag was slung over his shoulder, strap crossing his chest. He hid behind dark sunglasses. She wished that he would take them off, so she could see his eyes. If she could see his eyes, maybe she would be able to read him. Maybe she would be able to figure out what she could say that could affect him, make him stay. But those glasses were as impenetrable as a brick wall. His _will _was as impenetrable as a brick wall. She should know--she'd been banging her head against it all morning.

* * *

That morning, several hours after sunrise, Max's favorite dream had become reality. She had woken up in Alec's arms.

The weight of his arm against her back made her feel like nothing in the world could harm her, as long as she was in his embrace. His skin was warm beneath her cheek, warm the way only a transgenic's skin could be. She breathed him in, and the scent of him soothed her. She'd stayed that way for an hour, completely content, just listening to rise and fall of his chest.

When an hour had passed and he still showed no signs of stirring, Max levered herself up, careful not to wake him. The dark circles under his eyes testified to his state of complete exhaustion. She was afraid that if she stayed there with him on the bed much longer, she might wake him up. She didn't want to do that. After what he'd been through last night--hell, his whole life--he deserved to rest.

Max slid off of the bed and moved silently out of the room, grabbing clean clothes from the basket along the way. She paused in the doorway to look back at him, then smiled and sighed happily. Alec had finally gotten it all off his chest. The big secret no longer stood between them. They could move forward.

For the first time in eleven months, Max was truly happy. At least, until she realized that Alec planned to move forward without her.

Max had walked into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. Before the incident on the roof, she and Alec--at Alec's insistence--had _requisitioned_ a decent coffee pot that could make something other than the toxic waste they had been calling coffee up to that point. Once the coffee started brewing, she headed into the bathroom to get a shower. If she had been someone else, she would have sung. But, being Max, she kept a lid on her joy--it only escaped through the smile that wouldn't leave her face.

The smile didn't leave her face as she dried off and put on fresh clothes. It didn't leave her face as she took the time dry her hair, then brush it until it gleamed. It didn't leave her face as she went to the kitchen to fill her cup full of the freshly brewed coffee. When she heard Alec moving around in the bedroom, her smile widened. She took her cup and headed in his direction.

"Thought you were gonna sleep all day," she said softly as she approached the door. "Shoulda known the smell of coffee would..." Max trailed off as she rounded the doorway. The smile died, replaced by a look of complete incomprehension. Her brain didn't want to process what she was seeing. "What are you doing?" she asked in absolute shock.

Alec paused, a pair of jeans in hand hovering over the open duffel bag on the bed. He looked up, and the look in those hazel-green eyes was all the explanation she needed--guilt, apology, a hint of panic, and, worst of all, determination. Then he looked down and shoved the jeans into the duffel, a frown on his face.

It finally clicked.

Max made a guttural noise in the back of her throat, and the coffee mug fell from her hands. Time slowed. The mug inched downward, coffee spilling out of the cup and forming unique patterns as gravity pulled it toward the ground. Her heart did not beat. Her blood did not flow in her veins. For a moment, it was if she had ceased to exist. And then the reality of what was happening hit her like a freight train.

Time resumed. The mug smashed into the ground, shattering. Hot coffee splashed against her bare feet, but she didn't feel it. The only thing she could feel was a piercing pain in the center of her chest.

At the sound, Alec's head jerked up. When he saw the mug crash at Max's feet, splashing hot coffee everywhere, it shook him out of his funk. He moved toward her, his frown replaced by concern.

"Jesus, Max! Are you okay?" he asked, grabbing her upper arms and pushing her backwards, maneuvering her away from the broken shards. His eyebrows shot up as Max's hands gripped firmly around his wrists and pulled his hands off of her with a hard yank.

"No, I'm not okay. What the hell do you think you are doing?" she asked, her voice rising as panic started to set in.

_Oh, hell_. This was the part he had been dreading. He had made his decision to leave shortly after Max had fallen asleep. He needed to be alone. He needed to focus. No complications, no distractions, no guilt--just him and the voice in his head.

It was the right decision. He _knew_ it was the right decision, but he had stayed awake for almost the rest of the night trying to figure out a way to tell her.

It hadn't gone very well.

He'd thought about not telling her at all. Just avoid the whole issue and disappear. It would have been easier. But as soon as he'd thought of it, he knew he couldn't do it. Max deserved better than that.

So he'd wracked his brains for the rest of the night trying to think of some way to tell her. He thought of a thousand things, but none of them seemed right. How could he explain why he needed to leave, without demeaning everything she had done for him up until now? It was an impossible task, but one he couldn't avoid. He'd continued to try to find the words until his brain had finally shut down on him, and he'd passed out, a mere three hours before Max woke up the next morning.

She'd woken him when she had gotten out of bed earlier. Alec knew that she had tried not to, but even exhaustion couldn't overcome years of Manticore training. When he'd heard her get in the shower, he'd dragged himself out of bed. He started packing up his clothes and a few other things he might need. He hadn't gotten very far. He kept getting distracted by trying to think of a way to break it to her. Now that moment was here, and he still had nothing, and Max was _pissed_.

_You wouldn't have to deal with that problem if you had taken care of things back when you should have._

Alec ground his teeth together. It was going to be difficult to deal with pissed-off Max when he had to deal with the voice too. It just figured. Nothing in his life had ever been easy. He gave the voice a mental shove--unable to silence it, but pushing it into the background where it became more of an irritating murmur instead of a complete distraction.

"Max…" he began and took a step towards her, hands out in lets-all-calm-down-now gesture. He only got out her name before she cut him off, reaching up and giving him a firm shove backwards.

Max felt herself threatening to shatter into a million pieces. Her only defense was to get mad. She didn't know any other way to deal with what she was feeling.

She gave him another shove, and he stumbled back a couple of steps. She didn't relent, but followed him. The broken shards of the mug crunched under her bare feet, cutting into her skin. She never even felt it. Alec looked down at her feet and opened his mouth, about to say something, but she poked him hard in the chest, stopping him cold.

"What were you gonna do, huh? Just sneak out without so much as a goodbye? Leave me here to wonder what the hell happened to you? Was that your big plan?"

Alec shook his head. "Listen, I was gonna tell you..."

Max cut him off with another poke to the chest. "Or maybe you were gonna leave me another goddamn note. That's more your style, isn't it?"

Alec started, taken aback. He had completely forgotten about the note that he had left her before. He felt a moment of panic. He had written that thing when he was frantic and desperate. He couldn't even remember what he had written, but he remembered how he had felt.

Lost. Scared. Hopeless.

He shook his head to clear it of the memory. The voice would probably have a field day with that one. No point in giving it ammo to use against him.

He kept his own voice level. One of them needed to remain calm here, and it looked it was going to be up to him. Which was what he figured was going to happen anyway once he told her his plans, but he hadn't faced Max's wrath in a long time. He was kind of rusty. "I wasn't going to do that, Max. I swear. I was going to talk to you before I left."

Max face crumpled in complete agony for just a second, but then the look was gone, replaced by an angry glare. "Before you left _without me_, you mean."

Alec looked down at his feet and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Yeah. Without you," he murmured.

_Without you_. Those two words arrowed deep into her chest, going right for the heart.

She spun and walked away from him, stepping on the shards of the broken cup once more and once more not feeling a thing. Physical pain could not compare to the emotional agony she was dealing with. She walked over to the dresser, leaving bloody splotches in her wake. Once she made it to the dresser, she planted her hands flat on the surface and leaned heavily against it. Her head hung forward, causing her hair to become a curtain that hid her face. Her body was rigid, every single muscle tensing from all-consuming desire to make Alec stay.

When Alec glanced up at the suddenly silent Max, he saw the bloody trail on the floor. The guilt he felt quadrupled, but it also strengthened his resolve. Once again, he'd caused her pain. It was enough. The only way to stop hurting her was to not be around her.

He walked warily over to her, the way one would approach a wounded animal. Max was wounded, angry, and upset, and that made her unpredictable. "Max..."

"I don't want to hear it," Max snapped, refusing to look at him.

Alec frowned. This was not going well. "Your feet..." he said carefully, and placed a hand on her shoulder.

Max jerked her shoulder, shrugging him off. "What do you care?" she said coldly, but there was a tremor in her voice that belied her frosty tone.

"All right. That's it." With that, Alec spun Max around and picked her up. The only thing she could manage was a yelp when Alec slung her over his shoulder.

"Put me down, you sonofabitch!" Max yelled, pushing against his back to try to get upright again.

Alec ignored her and carried her out of the bedroom and then into the bathroom. He unceremoniously plopped her down on top of the sink, jarring her teeth. Before she could take a swing at him or open her mouth to yell at him again, he leaned forward, placing his hands flat on the sink on either side of her and bringing his face directly in front of her.

"Why don't you just shut up and give me a chance to explain myself before you go flying off the handle? Maybe you could do _that _for a change, huh?"

Max turned her face away from him. "What the hell kind of explanation could you possibly give me that would make me feel better about this? You're _leaving_."

There was such pain in that final word. It soothed the angry bite of the rest of her accusations.

Alec straightened and sighed, then got down on one knee. He grabbed the box that had their first aid supplies from under the sink and set it down beside him. He gently took Max's right foot into his hand, and she jerked as his skin made contact with hers. He ran his hand softly over the top of her foot, as if by the motion he could sooth her jumpy muscles. Then he went about the task of taking care of her injuries.

"I know you don't want to hear this," he said as he began to carefully pluck shards of ceramic from her foot, "but I have to do this. I have to leave."

"No, you don't," Max said, shaking her head and sticking firm to her denial. "You don't have to."

"I'm not getting any better, Max."

Max felt her blood run cold. To hear him voice the very thoughts that had haunted her over the past five and a half weeks… it made her feel like she was trying to fight the inevitable.

No. It didn't have to be. He'd finally had a breakthrough last night. He didn't need to take this drastic step. "You haven't given it enough time. I mean, you just finally opened up about Manticore. You just need time to deal, is all. It'll be fine. Just give it a couple of weeks."

Alec shook his head. "I can't do that."

"Sure you can. There's no need to make any rash decisions. Just give it another month or two, see what happens. I can help you, Alec. Just let me help you. We can work this out together," Max replied, her voice full of desperation.

"No, we can't. We clash, Max. You _know _we do. It's the nature of our relationship."

"We do not! Not anymore!" Max spat back angrily. "We get along fine!"

Alec gave her a little crooked grin. "See? You're even arguing with me about whether or not we argue."

Max bit her bottom lip, unwilling to give him further evidence that he was right.

Alec carefully plucked another shard of ceramic from Max's foot, then looked up. He gave her foot a little squeeze. "I can't fight you and the voice, Max. I'm not strong enough to do both."

When Max released her lower lip, it began to tremble. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I can change." _Oh, God, don't do this. Please don't leave me._

Alec lowered his head, unable to take the raw pain in Max's eyes. "I wouldn't have you be anyone but who you are."

Max's breath caught in her throat, and she had to blink rapidly to ward off the tears. She couldn't take much more of this. It felt like she was being torn apart.

Alec rinsed Max's cuts with antiseptic, then he gently began to apply bandages over the worst of the cuts to protect them. Her skin had red splotches from where the coffee had burned her, but there wasn't much he could do about that. They didn't have any burn cream. When he finished, he looked up at her. She was staring at him with a wide-eyed look that bordered on desperation. He knew that look. He had seen it on his own face in the mirror plenty of times.

He could give in, give her what she wanted. Stay with her forever in the worn-down apartment, or at least until the voice got the better of him and made him eat a bullet. Because that is what he was afraid it would come to. With Max there, he was too worried about her to concentrate on what he needed to do to fight the mother of all inner demons. More than that, he could not condemn her to another day of the half-life they had been living.

"We're not moving forward, Max. We're just standing still. Can't you see that?" he said softly.

She knew he was trying to explain, trying to soften the blow, but she just couldn't understand. No, it wasn't that. She didn't _want_ to understand. If she understood, then she would have to let him go, and how could she do _that_?

Max hopped off of the sink, and Alec automatically stood, the soldier in him unwilling to give her the high ground.

Max didn't care. She just glared _up _at him.

"You selfish bastard."

Okay, now he was getting angry. _He _was selfish? Bastard, maybe, but _selfish_? He'd been trying to spare her feelings, break it to her softly, and this was what he got in return? "You've gotta be kidding me! Half of the reason I'm doing this is for you!"

Max widened her eyes and raised her eyebrows at him. "For me? For _me? _Maybe you shoulda taken half a minute to ask me what I _wanted _before you decided to do this for _me._"

"What, you mean like how you asked me what I wanted before you knocked me unconscious and dragged me out of the fight club?!"

Max suddenly was on the defensive. "That was for your own good."

"That's exactly my point! Goddammit, Max, we've been here for three months! Three months of your life is gone, and it's my fault. God knows how long it's gonna take me to be right again. I'm not gonna let you sacrifice any more of your life for me!"

And that was the crux of the matter, really. Many other factors had come to play in his decision to leave, but Max was at the heart of it. He had to leave. Now.

Alec pushed past Max out of the bathroom and stalked toward the bedroom. Max followed after him, stepping a bit gingerly now that the bandages reminded her body that it was wounded.

"What right do you have to make decisions for me?!" she yelled at his retreating back.

Alec didn't turn around, but kept walking as he growled out his response. "This isn't about you. It's about me. This is my decision. I haven't made any decisions for you." He moved back over to the bed and began to stuff his remaining clothes into the duffel bag.

Max stopped just inside the doorway, as if by taking up that position she could block his only exit. "No, you're just taking them away."

Alec rolled his eyes upwards in search of intervention. "I finally figure out what I need to do with _my _life, and I'm taking away _your _decisions? Come on! You're being completely irrational."

"No, you're being completely unreasonable."

"Aren't you tired of living like this?" Alec snapped. "This is not a life, Max!"

"You really think I'm that shallow?" Max said as she watched him continue to pack. "You think that I'd rather be off hanging out at Crash and delivering packages than be here with you?"

Alec huffed angrily and paused in his packing so he could rub his temples. Between Max and the usual background noise from inside his skull, he was getting a headache. "I don't think you're shallow. Just obnoxiously stubborn."

Max had never been so scared in her life. He wasn't changing his mind. She couldn't change his mind, and he was going to leave her.

She was having a hard time holding on to her anger. Every time she opened her mouth, she was afraid that a sob would come out, and she would break down into hysterical tears at his feet.

"I can help you get through this, Alec. Whatever you want, whatever you need, I'll do it. All you have to do is ask. I won't argue. I won't question. I swear. Just let me be there for you."

Alec let his arms drop, and he began to fiddle with the zipper on the bag. He looked thoughtful, and for a moment, Max thought he was actually beginning to waver.

She should have known better. Nothing ever went her way anymore.

Alec turned his head and gave her an accessing look. "_'If you want to leave, I won't stop you.'_ You remember saying that to me, Max? 'Cause I do. Manticore cursed me with an excellent memory," Alec said, tapping a finger against his temple.

Max jerked as the words she wished she had never uttered were parroted back at her. Then she crossed her arms and her hip cocked out a bit, all false bravado. "I take it back."

Alec's face transformed into a look of complete incredulity. "You can't take it back! Christ, Max, how old _are _you?"

Max knew she was being irrational, but she didn't care. She couldn't live without him. "No," she said, her voice beginning to waver. She shook her head. "You can't go. I won't let you go."

Alec roughly shoved his last t-shirt into the duffel. "How you gonna stop me?" he asked, and zipped the bag shut in one swift, angry motion. "Tie me up and drug me again?"

Max's mouth had been already open, ready to provide a comeback before he even spoke. But when she heard those words, her jaw snapped shut with an audible click. She couldn't keep the hurt from showing on her face.

Alec's shoulders sagged. He felt like a complete asshole. That had been a seriously low blow. He heaved a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry. Dammit. I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."

He walked slowly over to her and put his hands on her upper arms. This time, she didn't yank his hands away. He stared into her eyes, and for once, he didn't mask anything in his. He let her see everything there was to see there, and everything there wasn't… the missing part of himself. "Look, I don't _want_ to do this. The idea of going off alone scares the hell out of me. But I have to. I _know_ I do. You have to trust me on this."

Max could see the conviction in his eyes. He would not change his mind. She sniffed. "But who's gonna save your ass when you get into trouble?" she asked weakly.

Alec smirked a little. "Yeah, I guess that kinda has been your job 24/7 up to this point, hasn't it? But, you see, I finally figured something out." He reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "You can't save me, Max."

Tears swam in Max's eyes, threatening to fall. He could tell immediately that she'd misinterpreted his meaning. It wasn't that he could not be saved… that wasn't what he had meant.

The smirk fell from Alec's lips, and his face became almost serene. He took Max's face in his hands and leaned slowly forward, touching his lips to her forehead. When he pulled back, Max's bottom lip was trembling again. He ran his one thumb over the curve of her cheekbone, then his lips curved with the hint of a smile. "I have to save myself," he added quietly.

* * *

That had been Round One. Alec had apparently thought that she'd accepted his decision, because he'd been a little shocked when Round Two had started about a half an hour later. Round Two had involved rationalizations, justifications... any and every valid and not-so-valid reason Max could think of for him to stay. Round Three involved a lot more yelling and the occasional throwing of blunt objects, but he still wouldn't change his mind.

And now here they were, standing behind the apartment building in awkward silence. The moment had come. Alec was ready to walk out of her life... most likely forever this time.

How was she supposed to accept that?

"Don't go," she breathed, hugging herself tighter.

Alec raised his head, but his eyes were still hidden behind those dark glasses. "We already talked about this."

Max shook her head. "I can't lose you… not again."

Alec looked down again, fiddling with the straps on his gloves for a moment before looking back up at her. "You never had me, Max," he said gently.

Max ducked her head and blinked rapidly against the moisture in her eyes. His words hurt, because they were true, and she had no one to blame for it but herself. If she had made a better effort to understand him back in Seattle, none of this would have happened.

When Max felt she had her emotions in check once more, she looked at his face, imploring. She still couldn't understand it. After all the time they had spent together, after what had almost happened between them last night, how could he just up and leave? How could he not know how she felt about him?

If he didn't understand, then she would make him understand. She would tell him, and to hell with the consequences.

"Alec, I…"

"Don't," Alec interrupted, coming to his feet.

He knew what she was going to say. He could see it in her eyes, as much as he'd felt it in her touch last night. But he couldn't stand to hear the words. He couldn't deal with the enormity of what those words meant, if she said them aloud.

He wished that he _could_ let her say it. He wished that he could say it back. But it would be a lie. He couldn't give her what he didn't feel…wasn't _capable_ of feeling. Not now. Maybe not ever. So he wouldn't let her say it; he would spare them both that pain.

He shook his head and sighed. "Don't," he repeated, and he mentally cursed himself when the word came out harsh.

Max sucked in a shaky breath. He knew. God, he _knew_, and he was still leaving. She dug her fingers into her arms again and kept her eyes wide, but she was not able to stop the single tear from falling. She sniffed and angrily wiped the tear away. "You're not even gonna let me say it?"

Alec's posture softened a bit when he heard the raw pain in Max's voice. When he spoke again, his voice was sad, almost wistful. "It doesn't change anything, Maxie. I wish it could. But you can't fix what's wrong with me. I'm not sure if it can be fixed."

There was a long silence between the two. Alec sighed again. He had to make her let go. She had to quit putting her life on hold for him and move on. He had tried to spare her feelings, but it hadn't worked. Max was stubborn; she would not let go. He regretted the need for it, but it was time for brutal honesty.

"You know, after Manticore was gone--before, even--I was drawn to you. Moth to a flame. Something in me just needed to be around you. Before you, I'd always just been a number, not a person. When we got out, I didn't know how to be a person, and so I stuck with you, someone who'd been where I'd been and was able to become something other than what they made us. I thought maybe you could help me figure it out. But you didn't, Max. You didn't."

Silence reigned again. Max didn't know what to say. She realized how badly she had failed him--then, now, always. Her head bowed in defeat. She closed her eyes, and her face crumpled in agony.

Alec had to look away when he saw how upset Max was. He felt himself begin to waiver. But he couldn't. He could not allow himself to change his mind. He made a guttural growl in the back of his throat and ran and hand through his already ruffled hair.

"You mess me up. You know that?" he huffed. "You've always messed me up. You've got all these expectations, and I can't help but try to be what you want me to be, even when it tears me apart. But I can't stop trying."

Max's head shot up and her eyes shot wide. "I haven't pushed you. For five and a half weeks, I haven't pushed. I haven't done anything but be there."

"I know that. It's nothing that you've done or said. You just being there pushes at me. I can see it in your eyes, what you see when you look at me. You've got this idea, in your head, of the way I'm supposed to be. You still see me the way I was, not the way I am. I think that's part of the problem. Too much has happened. I don't know if I can be that person any more."

Alec lowered his head and let his sunglasses slide down his nose. He looked at her above the top of the dark barrier he had been hiding behind. His eyes were still that beautiful gold-flecked green, but there was something missing. The spark that had always danced in those hazel eyes was still missing.

Maybe he was right. Maybe she did still compare him to the man he had been. But she didn't know how _not _to.

Alec reached up and pushed his sunglasses back up his nose. Max's heart began to pound as he turned back to his bike. He slung his leg over, then adjusted his bag so that it rest against his back. He turned his head back toward her. She felt a pang in her chest as he pulled back on the Manticore mask, hiding whatever he was feeling from her. When he spoke, his words were masked as much as his face was.

"I need to go find out who I am when you're not around."

Max nodded and swallowed hard around lump in her throat. He wasn't going to change his mind. She was never going to see him again. This was goodbye.

God, it wasn't fair. She hadn't realized how much he had meant to her until he had disappeared for eight months, and then she finally found him, went and let herself fall in love with him, only to lose him all over again. _Maybe it __**is **__fair_, she thought. _None of this would've happened if it wasn't for you. It's probably what you deserve._

Max sucked in a breath and then blew it out fast, flipping her hair over her shoulder. She tried to smile, but it looked forced. She didn't want her last words to him to be words of anger, but she would not say goodbye. Goodbye hurt too much. "Be careful."

Alec started the engine, then cocked his head at her, and the side of his mouth quirked with just a hint of a smirk. "Always."

Then he centered the bike and shoved back the kickstand. He started the engine, gunned it once, then, without further drama, put the bike in gear and rode off.

Max watched him as he rode away. As the distance between them grew, the pressure on her chest increased, until she felt like she was being crushed. Just as he was about to turn the corner and slip out of sight, Max whispered to his retreating back the words she had wanted to tell him before he had stopped her.

"I love you, Alec."

Max felt like he was taking a part of her with him. She felt gutted; there was not even enough left for tears. As Alec turned the corner and disappeared from sight, she wondered if she would ever feel whole again.

"Sometimes solutions aren't so simple. Sometimes goodbye's the only way."

"Shadow of the Day" Linkin Park

* * *

Max had no idea how long she stood in the alley behind the apartment building, watching the spot that Alec had disappeared from sight. Part of her hoped that he would come back, say that it was all a mistake, and that he needed her as much as she needed him. Another part of her just couldn't accept that he was gone.

Gone. Alec was _gone_.

At some point, Max slowly turned on her heel and mechanically made her way back up to the apartment. She was on autopilot. She didn't see the walls around her, or the stairs under her feet as she trudged her way up them. The only thing she could see was the image of Alec's face, at that last moment before he had left her.

When she got to the door to the apartment, she bumped into it, unable at first to work up even the meager amount of strength it took to get the sticking door open. Her forehead fell forward against the hard wood, and she found herself breathing hard and fast. She heard a strange, keening noise, then realized it came from her own throat. She was on the edge, about to fall hard and fast.

With a guttural scream, Max shoved the door open and burst inside the apartment. She turned and slammed the door behind her, causing a several small pieces of wood to fly out as she forced the too-tight door back into the frame. Once the door was closed, she turned all of the locks and then spun and leaned her back heavily against the door. It was as if by throwing the mostly-useless locks, she could somehow keep everything that had happened at bay.

She stayed leaning against the door until her breathing returned to almost normal. Suddenly, her legs felt weak. They began to shake, then gave out, and she collapsed in a heap in front of the door. She buried her face in her hands and waited for the tears to come.

They didn't. It felt like her heart had disconnected itself from the rest of her when Alec had left, and it had yet to reconnect. Max was afraid of what would happen once it did.

She looked up, running a hand through her hair to push it back from her face. Her eyes scanned the apartment. It felt... wrong, without him there. Silent. Empty.

Max leaned forward and braced herself with her arms until she was able to get her legs under her, then pushed herself off of the floor. She made a slow trek through the apartment. Everywhere she looked, she was assaulted with memories of their time together.

She found herself leaning against the doorframe of the bedroom, staring at the bed. She closed her eyes tight as she remembered the things they had done together in that bed… had it only been last night? It felt like a lifetime ago.

She would never share that bed with Alec again.

Max felt a warm trickle down her chin, and her hand automatically reached up to touch it. She pulled her fingers back and found red smears on her fingertips. She had bitten her own lip, hard enough to draw blood. She tried to focus on the pain of it, but she couldn't feel it. She couldn't feel anything.

She wiped the blood away with the back of her hand. She was about to turn around and leave, though were she would have gone, she had no clue. But then her eyes chanced upon her bag, tucked in between the end of the dresser and the wall. Her mouth fell open as she remembered what was in that bag. The thing that she had held onto for five and a half weeks. The thing she had never had the courage to read.

Alec's note.

Max's feet began to take her slowly across the room, seemingly of their own volition. She knelt in front of her bag and reached inside of it, unerringly finding what she was looking for.

She got up, note held tightly in her hand, and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. She ran her thumb over the **MAX **on the front. So many times before, she had held it in her hands, and so many times it had been returned to the bag, unread. But not this time.

It was all that she had left of him.

Max slowly unfolded the stiff cardboard, as careful with it as if it had been a thousand-year-old text as opposed to the back of a cereal box.

The writing was sloppy; he had clearly been rushed. The sentences were fragmented and had a tendency to run uphill. Max took a deep breath, then finally allowed herself to read the words Alec had thought were his last.

_Wanted to say goodbye. Sorry for not being strong enough. Wish I was strong like you, but I'm not. Losing it. I can feel it. Scared I might hurt you. Can't let that happen. Couldn't live with myself if I hurt you again. You're the only thing left that matters. _

_I've caused you so much pain in my life. Know I'll cause even more with my death, but at least then it will be over. Won't be able to hurt you any more. Never wanted to hurt you. _

_Don't blame yourself. Did everything you could. Wish things had turned out different._

_Go home. Be with friends. Live again. Hope one day you'll be able to think of me and not hate me for what I've done. _

_Find me in the high place._

_Alec_

The note fell from Max's hand. She sat on the bed, face slack, eyes unblinking, staring at the opposite wall but not seeing it. She didn't react. She had nothing left inside of her to give. All she felt was an overwhelming emptiness.

Max turned and lowered herself onto the bed, on her side of the invisible line that had existed between them. She curled in on herself, body assuming the fetal position in a futile attempt to protect itself from the pain that came from within.

Max's hand--palm flat against the bed--creeped forward, crossing the invisible line on the bed until it came to rest where Alec would have been, if he had been in the bed with her. She inhaled deeply, and though her eyes stayed dry, a single sob escaped her throat.

She could still smell him. She imagined that she could almost feel the heat of him, trapped in the bed but slowly fading.

She stayed in that same position for hours, eyes unfocused, wishing for what could have been.

* * *

Later that evening, Max stood on the beach, in the spot Alec had always gone to when she had followed him to the beach those couple of times. Her dark eyes stared at the horizon, watching the water glisten under the sinking sun. Her bare feet sunk into the sand, and the strong ocean breeze blew her hair back from her face. Her arms were wrapped around herself as she tried to hold the ache at bay.

She felt empty inside--completely hollowed out. It was the emptiness that hurt the most.

She wondered if this was how Alec had felt, when he had left Seattle and become a shell of himself.

She had not cried since he had left. Not one single tear. She actually wished that she would cry; maybe then, the ache inside of her would ease. But she couldn't. She had tried to get the tears to come, but they just wouldn't fall. Maybe it was because if she let them fall, then she would have to admit that it was over, that Alec was never coming back.

She had lost so many people in her young life. But if she let the tears come, she would have to admit that she had lost the one person that mattered the most. The one person that she didn't think she could live without.

She remembered Alec's words from his note. _Go home. Be with friends. Live again._

_Live again_. She wasn't sure if she could truly do that without him. But the rest... it was what she needed. She needed Original Cindy. She needed Joshua.

She needed to go home.

She would head out first thing in the morning. She didn't think she could stand much more than a day in that apartment, alone. And she didn't care how uncomfortable it was, she was sleeping on the couch. She couldn't sleep in that bed. Ever again.

Max let out a slow sigh and continued to contemplate the horizon. Images of Alec popped into her head, unbidden.

Alec--not yet _Alec_--sauntering into her cell at Manticore.

Alec, giving her a half-hearted smile and telling her he was _always all right_.

Alec, standing across from her in the ring after refusing to throw the fight, smirking at her and saying, _My turn now, bitch_.

The look on his face when he snapped that man's neck. The plea in his eyes when he begged her to kill him. The look of complete frustration when he tried to cut his hair. A smear of flour on his cheek as he made her breakfast. His teasing taunts as they raced their stolen motorcycles down rain-slick streets. Dancing until they dropped from laughter. On the roof with a gun in his hand. Under her, as she put her hands and mouth on him. Pain, as he relived the worst moments of his life. Laughter and smiles and anger and agony, all mixed up together.

Alec, the man she loved.

He was gone.

She whispered to the wind, the only witness to her grief.

"Love sucks."

* * *

A/N: The genesis of this story comes from one line from this chapter. One line launched this angst-laden, hundred-thousand-plus-word journey of Max and Alec. Gold star if you can figure it out.

For those of you who celebrate the season, I wish you a happy holiday. For those of you who don't celebrate, well, I hope you're happy, too.

Due to the holidays, I will probably not have another update out there until after the New Year.


	19. Two Halves, Not Whole

Gone

By Inzane

Disclaimer: Santa must've delivered the rights for Dark Angel to the wrong house.

Summary: How much abuse can a guy take before he snaps? Events in Hello, Goodbye take a different turn. AU from that point.

A/N: And the gold stars go to _McWicca _and _seek-to-enchant121584_, who were the only ones to guess the correct line that birthed this fic! The line was "I need to go find out who I am when you're not around." It may not be the best in the chapter, or the most poignant, but this fic exists because of it. I believe that Max greatly influenced who Alec became outside of Manticore--she became his touchstone--and I wanted to explore what would happen if he lost that.

Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. I found it very difficult to get back in the right frame of mind to write this. Hard to feel angsty while you're singing Christmas carols and munching on sugar cookies.

* * *

Chapter 19: Two Halves, Not Whole

Despite her desire to go home, Max wasn't in any particular hurry to get there.

She took Highway 1, winding her way along the coast. She didn't care about the spectacular scenery that sped by as her motorcycle flew along the coastal highway. She didn't see it. She was too mired in memory. She took that route because she wanted to stay close to the ocean.

She wanted the chance to stare out at the waves as Alec always had; it was the only way she had left to connect to him. She spent hours at a time with her bare feet sunk in the sand and her eyes on the horizon. She thought that if she only stared long enough or hard enough, maybe she'd find some answer, some way to fill the gaping hole he had left inside of her. Maybe she could figure out some way to live her life without him.

She didn't cry. She'd forgotten how.

* * *

When Max wasn't staring at the waves, she stayed in constant motion. She wanted to feel the salt wind on her face, feel it whip through her hair. She desperately needed air.

She felt like she couldn't breathe. There was this pressure that kept building inside of her, to the point where she thought her skin would no longer be able to contain it and she would fly apart. She didn't know how to release it.

No, that wasn't true. She did know how, but she was afraid to do it. Afraid to allow herself to reconnect to her emotions, to feel the full pain of her loss. She couldn't handle it. Not now. Not when she could still remember the feel of his hands on her body and the taste of his skin on her tongue.

As the pressure continued to build in her, it began to affect her in ways that she was too distracted to notice. Sometimes, she would find herself miles down the road without remembering how she got there. She drove too fast on dark, curvy roads, weaving in and out of traffic that she barely noticed was in her way.

The third night of her trek home, Max almost killed herself.

* * *

It was late. Traffic was light, as most people were long ago in their beds. Stinging rain began to fall, but she didn't decrease her speed. When traffic somehow managed to get in her way, she just swerved around it. She needed to go faster; only then did it feel like she could breathe.

The road swung closer to the coast, until the opposite side of the highway fell away in a cliff. Max barely noticed, just like she barely noticed the eighteen-wheeler in front of her, right as she was about to round a curve.

It was a blind curve, but she either didn't notice or didn't care. At the last second, she shifted and swerved out around the truck. As she moved into the opposite lane, the glare of headlights blinded her. There was a blare of a horn as a sleek sports car barreled toward her. Max cursed and swerved wildly to get out of the way.

The sound of the car's horn was still dying when Max's bike hit a patch of standing water and began to hydroplane. She lost control, and the bike fell to the side, skidding along the pavement, dragging her with it as it headed right for the cliff, guarded only by a flimsy-looking barrier.

Too fast. She was moving too fast. She was gonna crash right through.

Max held her breath as she careened toward what looked like certain death. Her life didn't flash before her eyes. She didn't come up with a list of things that she regretted she would never get to do, or lament past mistakes. She wasn't scared. The only thing her numbed brain could come up with was one crazy thought: _Looks like I won't have to figure out how to live without Alec after all._

Her bike screeched to a halt only a half a foot away from the barrier. She lay awkwardly on her back in a puddle on the side of the road, bike pinning her leg. She sank slightly into the mud, and still, she did not breathe.

She was disconnected. Lost.

Stinging rain pelted her face like little slaps, as if the heavens themselves were trying to snap her out of it--a celestial wake-up call.

When she finally realized that she was not dead, Max took a gasping breath. She struggled to sit up as the mud fought to hold her in its suctioning grasp. She let out a frustrated growl as she pulled herself out of the mud and extricated herself from her motorcycle. She stumbled backwards until she bumped into the barrier. Startled, she sat down hard, squelching into the mud and panting as she tried to calm down. After a minute, she slowly turned her head and she looked out and down, over the edge of the barrier, to the rocks that had awaited her below. She wouldn't have survived that fall. Max shoved a hand roughly through her muddy hair and blew out the remaining air in her lungs.

She was losing it. She had to get a grip, and fast. If she continued at this rate, she was going to get herself killed. Sure, her life sucked extremely hard, but she didn't want to die. It was not that she was afraid of death. She would have gladly laid down her life for Alec, if it meant that she could save him.

She would have died for Alec, but not for the lack of him. She was stronger than that.

It didn't feel like it lately, but she had to believe that it was true.

* * *

Two states away, Alec pulled his motorcycle off to the side of the deserted New Mexico highway and shut off the engine. The sliver of moon did little to provide light, but it was enough for the X5's enhanced vision. He moved away from his bike, walking to the center of the road. He looked back the way he had come, then in the direction he had been headed. Nothing. He nodded slightly in approval, then walked over to the very edge of the road. There he stopped and stared out into the desert, as the voice in his head whispered to him.

The land was level and barren. Only the occasional scrub brush relieved the landscape of its emptiness, until the flat plane was finally disturbed by a mesa in the far distance.

Out there was a big, fat nothing. It was exactly what he was looking for.

Alec shrugged his shoulders, unconsciously adjusting the pack on his back as he had so many times before in his life. His duffel had been exchanged over seventy-five miles back for a standard issue army pack that he had picked up at a surplus store. The weight of it against his back was both a familiar comfort and a disturbing reminder, but he had needed something a bit sturdier that could carry a heavier load.

After he had purchased the pack, he'd picked up all of the supplies he figured he would need for what he had in mind: food, water, shelter--all stowed with the precision that had been drilled into him since birth. The pack easily weighed fifty pounds, but it was an easy weight, barely felt. He had carried twice as much back in his younger years at Manticore.

The voice was different now. It continued uninterrupted, as it had for days, but the words and sentences had begun to run together, until he could barely make out what it was saying. The change was accompanied by an aggravating, tightly focused headache right between his eyes.

This could not be a good thing.

Alec let the keys to the motorcycle slip from his hand. They clinked softly as they hit the pavement. There was no use in holding on to them; the motorcycle wouldn't be there by the time he made it back this way. _If_ he made it back this way. Someone else might as well get some use out of it.

His eyes narrowed as he stared out over the dark landscape to the distant mesa. "Looks like it's just you and me now," he told the voice in his head, then stepped out into the nothingness of the desert.

* * *

Max got the wake-up call loud and clear. After her brush with death, she attacked the road with single-minded focus. There was no more delaying or spacing out. She was hyper-aware of everything that stood between her and her destination.

That destination called to her, urging her onward. She didn't eat. She didn't drink. She drove without rest, stopping only for gas. She thought that the closer she got to home, the pressure she felt would ease, but it didn't. If anything, it became sharper, accentuating the gaping whole inside of her.

It began to rain again as night fell. It was a cold rain that soaked through to the bone, making her think longingly of her bed in the apartment she shared with Original Cindy. The thought of curling up in that bed with a cup of hot chocolate, with the comfort of her best friend there to confide in, almost made her whimper. But as she reached the outskirts of the city, she felt something inside of her shift. She knew where she had to go.

She had no recollection of getting past the sector checkpoints. She hoped that she hadn't seriously injured anyone.

She stood next to her motorcycle, running her hand affectionately across the seat. She would leave it. It had served her well, but it didn't compare to her baby. She sighed. Hopefully, some worthy soul would find it.

Max slowly let her head fall backwards, looking up and up and up to the place that called to her. The one place where she could let every mask slip. The place that served as silent confidant and confessor--never judging, never accusing, just _there_.

The Space Needle.

Hoping the pressure inside her would ease, Max began to climb.

* * *

Original Cindy fumbled with the key to the apartment, swaying slightly, a broad smile on her face. She mostly on purpose bumped her body into Carmen--the fine, red-headed chica she had picked up at Crash a few hours earlier--as she tried to open the door. Carmen giggled and leaned against her tipsily. They were both well buzzed and feeling very fine. Though Carmen was a bit too ditzy for a real relationship, Cindy figured there was nothing wrong with gettin' her freak on, no-strings style.

"Gotta put it in the hole," Carmen stage-whispered into Cindy's ear as she leaned into her, then nipped the lobe of OC's ear with her teeth.

Original Cindy felt a surge of warmth through her whole body. "Gimme a mo', shugga. Original Cindy ain't got no 'sperience in that area, aiight?"

Carmen giggled again, then said, "Really? And here I thought you might have some interesting... _toys_."

OC's smile broadened as she managed to get the key into the hole and heard the lock click. "Well, you know," she said, turning to look back at Carmen and pull her in as they both stumbled through the door, "a girl don't like to brag."

Cindy had wrapped her hand around the back of Carmen's neck and was about to pull her closer when she felt the redhead stiffen. "Hey, who's that?" Carmen asked, staring over Cindy's shoulder.

Original Cindy turned, mild panic pushing away her buzz. She tried to think of where she had last left the baseball bat. She squinted at the dark corner of the room. There was a figure standing there, by the window. A woman.

OC's eyes flew wide, and she stepped away from Carmen. "Max?" she asked hesitantly.

The woman at the window turned her head slightly, just enough to catch the light coming in from the hallway through the still open door. The look of raw pain on her face caused Cindy to gasp. "_Max_," she said, as if asking for confirmation that this woman, who looked so changed from the one she knew, was indeed her friend.

"Thought you were flying solo, baby, but I'm game for somethin' more."

Original Cindy's head whipped around at the sound of Carmen's now grating voice. She grabbed the girl by the arm and began to pull her backwards toward the door. "You need to go."

"Aw, come on, Cin," Carmen protested, resisting a little as she stuck out her bottom lip in a pout. "Thought we were gonna have some fun."

OC's patience snapped. "Get out," she barked with finality, then gave Carmen a shove out the door, which she immediately followed up by slamming said door in her pouting face. OC spun around, the wild night she had planned immediately forgotten.

Her heart was pounding in her chest, though she didn't quite understand why. Max was _home_. This was a good thing. But the look on her face... the way she just stared out the window at the rain... it made her uneasy. Something was wrong. Something was seriously wrong.

"Max?" she called out again quietly as she slowly walked over to her friend. Max didn't reply. The only way OC could tell that Max had heard her was the slight flinch at the sound of her name.

Max forehead was touching the glass of the window. She was soaking wet; a small puddle had gathered at her feet. Her skin seemed unnaturally pale. OC turned her head away for a moment, quickly scanning the apartment. What she _didn't _see told her more than what she _did_.

No Alec.

OC placed a hand gently on Max's shoulder. She swallowed hard when Max flinched under her touch. "Oh, boo, what happened?" she whispered.

_What happened? _Max grimaced. It was such a simple question, but the answer was so far from it. Even after spending two hours on the Space Needle in the pouring rain trying to sort it all out, Max still wasn't sure if she understood it herself. She opened her mouth to speak. Nothing came out but a small, strangled noise.

_Come on, Max. Just tell her. Tell her how much you failed him. Tell her that Alec left you. Tell her that Alec is gone._

Max tried to say the words, but as the first syllable escaped her lips, it turned into a choked sob. She snapped her mouth shut and tried to hold it back. She hadn't allowed a single tear to fall since he'd left her--not as she packed her things, not as she made the long trek back to Seattle. She was tough. She was a rock. She could handle anything life threw at her.

It was all bullshit.

She was tired of being strong. Tired of holding everything in until she thought she would explode. She wasn't a soldier--not anymore. She had fled from Manticore long ago, but it was harder to escape the attitudes they had instilled in her since birth. With Original Cindy's hand on her shoulder, she felt like she could finally let go.

The dam broke and the tears fell. She felt Cindy's arms wrap around her, and her friend's compassion was enough to destroy what little resistance she had left. Her knees weakened, and OC's arms tightened, supporting her weight when she no longer could herself. They sank to the floor, and Max turned and wrapped her arms tightly around her friend, overcome by gut-wrenching sobs.

Original Cindy didn't press Max. She just let her cry. Max took deep, gasping breaths between sobs. She cried until the ache inside her became almost unbearable, until the hole inside of her threatened to swallow her up. Just when she thought she couldn't take any more, she heard Cindy's voice calling to her as she rocked her gently.

"Let it out, boo. Jus' let it out. It'll be okay. Don't you worry. Original Cindy'll take care of you. Ever'thing'll be jus' fine."

Max sobs began to quiet, until finally she was still, just listening to Cindy's calming voice. Max stared off into space and let Cindy's voice call her back to herself. Her friend's arms were still about her, and OC was stroking her hair softly.

"He left, Cindy," Max said in a harsh whisper, her throat raw from her tears. "He's gone, and he's never coming back."

"You don't know that, Max," Original Cindy murmured into Max's hair. "He could come back."

Max shook her head slightly. "No, he won't." She swallowed hard, and a large tear slipped down her cheek. Her voice broke. "He doesn't need me."

The truth in those four words cut like a knife. Max closed her eyes tight and held on to Original Cindy.

They sat in silence, with nothing but the sound of rain against the window to disturb them. Words were no longer necessary. Just being there was enough.

* * *

Max sank down into the tub of blissfully hot water until the bubbles Original Cindy had added completely obscured her from chin to toes. She hadn't realized her muscles had been so tense until the hot water began to work its magic on the knots. Max sighed and let her head fall back against the back of the tub.

Original Cindy sat on a pile of towels on the floor, with her legs tucked under her. She leaned on the far end of the tub and kept a close eye on her friend. She was worried about Max. Cindy had never seen her tough friend look so vulnerable as she did right now.

Max tried to empty her mind and just concentrate on physical sensations: the smell of the bubbles, the tiny sound of them popping next to her ear, the wonderfully warm water...

Max's eyes shot open, and she sat up a bit in the tub. "Hey. When did we get hot water?" Max hadn't even noticed that Cindy had not needed to boil pots of hot water for the tub. She'd been too emotionally drained. She had let Cindy maneuver her into the tub without really paying attention to anything that went on.

"Oh. Well, you know, Flynn manage to hook us up with a water heater. Don' know where he got it. Jus' show up wit' it one day, all dimples and thousand-watt smile and puppy dog eyes. May not play for his team, but I gots to admit, boy is cute. Anyway, say he don' like owin' no favors, so here we are wit' hot water."

Max frowned. "Flynn?" she asked, puzzled.

OC's eyes widened. "Damn, girl, sometime I forget jus' how long you been gone." She shook her head in a self-chastising manner. "Flynn's one a yo' fellow supersoldiers. X5, like you. Original Cindy been helping yo' girl Cece get a few of yo' former Manticore classmates jobs at Jam Pony. They all hard workin', and pretty at that, so Normal don't put up too much of a fuss."

Max's frown deepened, carving a hard line between her eyebrows. She didn't like the thought of some X5 she didn't know insinuating himself into Original Cindy's life, and now, by default, hers. She didn't want to end up doing runs with him at Jam Pony--assuming Normal let her have her job back. She didn't want to hang out with him at Crash. She didn't want some guy hanging around, reminding her of everything she had lost.

Cindy saw Max's reaction. "Don't worry, boo. Flynn not a playa. He a good guy, though it freak a girl out to say such a thing of a man. Covered my shift coupl'a times, taken the hard routes, stood the rounds at Crash. And the hot water heater, coarse. Flynn, he one cool kitty."

Max may have forced the frown from her face, but she was still frowning on the inside. Flynn sounded like a pretty stand up guy. He had Cindy on his side, which was already a point in his favor. Original Cindy was not one to be easily fooled by a pretty face.

Flynn was an X5, working where Alec had once worked, hanging out with friends that had once been Alec's. The guy almost sounded too good to be true. Not that Alec hadn't been a good guy, when push came to shove. Before everything had happened, he'd always stood up for his friends (after some cajoling, usually), but he often knew how to play the angles to so that he would benefit somehow. Alec had always had some scam running, or some trouble brewing. And he had always been one to make a play for just about anything with a pair of X chromosomes and a pulse. Alec had been trouble personified, wrapped up in one very fine package. Flynn sounded so different from the Alec she had known.

Max harrumphed. _Flynn_.

She hated him already.

Max crossed her arms and sulked, sinking deeper into the water.

* * *

She slept for thirteen hours straight. For once, her level of sheer exhaustion managed to overcome her shark DNA. The long journey home had taken its toll on her body, and the never-ending drama that her life had become over the past eleven months had taken its toll on her mind. The loss of Alec had been the final blow. She couldn't take any more. She needed to reboot.

For thirteen hours, Max completely shut down. White... Manticore... hell, a tickertape parade could have marched through her bedroom door, and she would have been none the wiser. It was not exactly the safest course of action, but it was necessary.

It scared the hell out of Original Cindy.

They had stayed up for an hour and a half after Max had finished her bath. Cindy only had to push a little before the story came gushing out of Max, as if it was some sick poison she needed to expel from her system. Just when Original Cindy thought she'd heard the worst, Max would reveal another part of the story more terrible than the last.

Cindy had been so relieved when Max had shown up in their apartment alive and in one piece. Now she wasn't so sure her friend had made in back in one piece. Not in the ways that counted.

When Max had finally fallen asleep, after having no more left to give, Cindy had been relieved. Her girl seriously needed some sleep. Maybe sleep would make that dark look in her eyes go away.

She had expected Max to sleep for a couple of hours. After having lived with Max for so long, she was still used to her crazy sleep patterns. But when Max showed no signs of stirring in the morning, Cindy began to worry.

She called Flynn and asked him to tell Normal she was sick and to see if he would cover her shift. Flynn agreed, like he always did, after a few teasing and completely non-serious comments about how Cindy could pay him back. After rolling her eyes and hanging up on him, Cindy began to pace. When Max still didn't wake up after eight hours, she began to seriously worry.

She wondered if she should wake Max up. Cindy had checked on her several times, and she was still breathing and all that, but maybe there was something wrong with her. What if she had taken something to help her sleep? Max would've had to down probably a half a bottle of sleeping pills to combat her metabolism; she could've miscalculated and taken too much. Usually, any movement in the room around Max would wake her up. OC swore the girl must sleep with half and eye open. But Max didn't budge. She didn't even twitch.

She had tried calling Cece, but she wasn't answering her phone. She couldn't call Flynn, because Max would kill her if she involved some guy Max didn't know. She had been about to do the unthinkable and call Logan, to see if he could get in touch with Dr. Carr, when Max shuffled out of the bedroom, absently rubbing a hand through her mussed hair.

"Max!" OC cried out, and rushed over to Max, grabbing her now startled friend up in a big hug. "Don't you do that to a sista again, hear?!"

"Wha...?" Max mumbled sleepily, still trying to shake off the cobwebs.

"You freaked me out, sleepin' like that!"

Max furrowed her brows in confusion, turning her head to the window. It was light out. What was wrong with sleeping for a couple of hours? She'd needed it.

Original Cindy could see that Max's brain wasn't firing on all cylinders yet. "Thirteen hours, boo! You been asleep for thirteen hours."

Max blinked several times while her brain got in gear. What she had taken for midmorning must've been late afternoon. She shuffled over to the couch and plopped down on it, hard. OC eyed her for a few seconds, then plopped down beside her. The pair slouched, both worn out.

Max let her head fall back against the couch; she didn't have the energy for much else. She felt raw and empty inside. She also felt like she could crawl back into bed and sleep for another thirteen hours, which was a serious problem. She was in danger of sliding into depression, and no way was she letting that happen.

She would learn to live without Alec. She had to. He'd left her no other choice.

"So, boo," Original Cindy began carefully, sliding her eyes over to Max, "you gonna come tomorrow and bully Normal into giving you a job back?"

Max sighed. It was time for life to move on. She leaned forward and hunched over, elbows on knees. She'd have to face Normal, who would have a million questions about why she hadn't brought Alec back with her. There was no avoiding it, but it could wait.

"Not yet," Max said quietly, eyes stark. "Somethin' I gotta do first."

* * *

Max waited until morning. She didn't want a bunch of other transgenics around when she finally faced Joshua. If she waited until morning, most of the X series would be out working at the legit jobs they held down in the real world. The transhumans, who, unlike the X series, were unable to hide their otherness, stayed in Terminal City, the only place where they didn't have to hide what they were.

She stood outside the fence, biting nervously at her thumbnail, trying to think of a way to break it to Joshua. He had wanted to come with her to find Alec, and she had turned him down. She'd said it wasn't safe. But maybe if Joshua had been along, things would've gone differently. She kept remembering the look in Joshua's eyes, before she had left, when he had asked her to "come back with Alec." There had been such a look of trust and faith. He had believed, unconditionally, that she would bring Alec back to them.

Alec may not have been the first friend Joshua had made among the X series--Max held that distinction--but he was the first _male_ friend. Max knew she was near and dear to Joshua's heart, but she also knew that Alec held a special place there as well. Joshua could relate to Alec in a way he could never relate to her… it was a male bonding type of thing. This, she could understand. No one in her life could ever replace Original Cindy.

And now she had to tell Joshua that Alec was gone for good. She was so afraid to see the disappointment in his eyes, when she told him what had happened. Joshua had trusted her to bring Alec back, and she had failed him. Just like she failed Alec.

* * *

It didn't take long to find him. A guy Joshua's size kind of stood out.

Max walked into the building that had become TC's mess hall. At this hour of the morning, there was a good chance that he would be there. Both transgenics and transhumans had one hell of an appetite.

She was right, though she almost wished she hadn't been. She still had no idea what to say to him. He was sitting at a makeshift table made of an old door, talking animatedly to Dix and Luke.

He looked so happy. God, she didn't even remember what that was like. All she'd had for the past eleven months was that brief moment when she'd thought Alec had finally made a breakthrough. A moment so brief that the feeling of it had already faded from her memory, swamped by the pain of what had followed.

Then there was no more time to think. As if sensing her eyes on him, Joshua trailed off and turned his head toward her. His eyes widened and he stood up, knocking over the folding chair he had been sitting on. His face split with a huge grin, and his eyes lit up. But then she saw those eyes shift, looking past her for someone he thought should be there. Someone who would never stand by her again.

Dammit, she had to quit thinking these morbid thoughts. Alec was gone. She needed to get over it, over _him_. She would not live the rest of her life moping around like a lovesick cow.

When Joshua's eyes moved back to her face, she saw him take a moment to truly look at her. The smile slowly faded from his face, replaced by a wary questioning look, almost as if he knew he would not like the answer.

Max bit her bottom lip and gave her head a small shake. Joshua immediately understood her meaning, for his whole body seemed to sag in sympathy of her defeat. He walked slowly over to her until he stood towering before her. He placed his hands lightly on her shoulders and said quietly, "Little Fella."

Max surged forward, wrapping herself around Joshua and placed her cheek against his chest. "I'm sorry," she told him, her voice heavy with emotion.

"Alec not coming back." The words rumbled in Joshua's chest, under her cheek. They were both a statement and a question; he knew the answer, but he was hoping Max would deny it.

"No," Max said, and her voice broke on the word. Her eyes burned, but she would shed no tears. Not here, in Terminal City. Here, she had to be strong. "He's not."

Joshua's arms tightened around her. "Not Little Fella's fault." Max began to protest, but Joshua cut her off, holding on a little tighter. "No. Don't argue. Listen. Joshua not know what happen, but Joshua know Max. Max did everything she could to help Alec. This Joshua knows."

"But it wasn't enough, Joshua. I wasn't what he needed."

The chuckle rumbled through Joshua's chest. "Alec need Max. Alec just not know it yet."

Max frowned and pulled back so she could look up at Joshua. "I don't think so, Big Fella."

Joshua ran one of his big hands over her hair and smiled fondly at her. "Don't have to think, Little Fella. Just _believe_."

Max shook her head and her shoulders slumped. "Think I'm all out of belief these days."

Joshua smiled sadly, then pulled her into a hug once more. "That okay, Little Fella. Joshua have enough belief for both of us."

"Well, isn't this a pretty picture?"

At the sound of that sarcastic voice Max and Joshua both knew so well, they broke apart, heads turning in unison toward the sound of the voice. Mole stood across from them, chewing on his ever present cigar and looking none too happy.

"So," he added, eyeing Max, "the prodigal daughter returns."

"Mole," Max said warily. She was in no mood for a fight. Strike that. She _was_ in the mood to fight, but in her current state, the fight probably wouldn't end until one of them was either unconscious or dead. She was _not _in the mood to kill anyone.

Mole made a point of looking dramatically around. "I don't see any new faces around here. Thought you were on some grand rescue mission or something? So where's the guy?"

Okay, so maybe she _was _in the mood to kill someone.

"Mole," Joshua growled in warning.

Mole pulled out his cigar then gestured with it to Max. "No. I wanna know. She just up and left us for three months, and she doesn't even bring the guy back? We lost how many people in that fight with White, we almost get exposed, and the whole time she's off takin' a vacation? Fuck that!"

Max's brows furrowed. "What do you mean, a showdown with White? What the hell happened?"

"You'd know if you'd've been here. White and his merry band of amped up chimps decided to escalate the game while you were off sunning yourself in California. They made a play for Terminal City."

"Why didn't somebody call me? Original Cindy knew how to get in touch with me," Max said angrily.

"We don't need ordinaries in our business. You X series can go run around in the big bad world if you want to, but we deal with our own kind."

"Cece..." Max began, knowing that her fellow X5 had no problem dealing with Cindy.

"Cece's not in charge around here," Mole snapped. "I am."

"Oh yeah?" Max replied, he voice taunting. Mole really knew how to get her riled.

"Yeah. Somebody had to do it," Mole said bitterly. He'd never really wanted the job, but unfortunately, it came down to him. He didn't like the burden of leadership. Didn't like the fact that every living soul in TC depended on him to keep them alive. And he hated the fact that he had failed some of them.

Max felt her anger die as she saw the look on Mole's face, a haunted look she knew far too well. She fell silent and waited for him to continue.

"It took everything we had to beat them, but we did it. Had to get a little creative with the body disposal so we wouldn't be discovered. We lost sixteen people that day, including Gem. Maybe if you'da been here, you could've changed that."

"Gem? She's dead?" Max whispered in shock.

"Yeah. Shot right through the fuckin' forehead," Mole said, accentuating his point by poking a finger between his eyes.

Max's eyes unfocused as she visualized what had happened to Gem. "I didn't know," she said quietly.

"Yeah? Nice excuse, huh? Why don't you tell that to Gem's kid?"

"Mole. Enough," Joshua said firmly, taking a step toward the lizard man.

Mole grimaced, then put his cigar back in his mouth. He stared pointedly at Max for a moment, then his eyes narrowed. "I hope he was worth it," the transhuman said coldly, then turned his back and walked away. As he passed, the other transhumans and younger transgenics were all suddenly very interested in the food in their plates.

Max moved over to an empty table and slumped down into a chair. "I can't do anything right anymore. Every decision I make turns out badly."

Joshua walked over to her and patted her on the shoulder. "Things'll get better, Little Fella."

* * *

It took Max two hours to explain what had happened in California. She left out a few pertinent details. There were some things that she just could not tell him... she blushed slightly, thinking of that one passionate night with Alec. She would not admit to anyone but Original Cindy that she had let herself fall in love with Alec, but somehow, she thought Joshua knew. Saying the words aloud, however, was not so easy.

She didn't cry. She had no tears left. She'd given them all up last night when she had poured her heart out to Original Cindy. All that she had left was the gaping hole inside her that she feared would never be filled.

Joshua did not look on her with disappointment. He did not judge her. He just listened, and when she was done, he drew her into a gentle hug that eased her somewhat bruised spirit.

Sometimes Max wondered how a place so fucked up as Manticore could have made someone as wonderful as Joshua. And once they had made him, she wondered how they could have ever considered him a mistake.

* * *

"Move your lazy butts, people! You think I want to see your pathetic faces hanging around here all day? Bip!"

Max and Original Cindy walked down the ramp into Jam Pony to the accompaniment of Normal's usual ranting. Max rubbed unconsciously at her newly laser-off barcode as she took in the scene.

"And to think I actually thought I missed this," Max wryly to Cindy as they approached the dispatch area. "Normal!" Max called out cheerily as she reached the counter. "Guess who's back? You miss me?"

Normal raised his head, and his eyebrows followed. "Thought you were gone for good. I should've known it was too good to be true."

Max leaned on the counter. "Hey, things took a bit longer than I thought. But I'm here now, ready to work."

Normal shook his head and raised a hand as if to ward her off. "Uh uh, Missy Miss. I've had about enough of your antics to last a lifetime. No job, no way."

"Come on, Normal. You know you want to hire my boo back," Original Cindy interjected, leaning on the counter next to Max.

"Hmmm... let me see. Do I want to hire Max back? No. No, I don't think I do. Besides, we're full up."

"What about that spot you kept open for Alec?" Cindy asked quietly, afraid of how the question might affect Max. Normal had kept Alec's locker for him for almost a year, like some sort of sick shrine.

Both Normal and Max's faces fell, as if they were both reliving the loss of Alec. If it hadn't still hurt so bad, Max would have almost found it comical. Normal turned to Max, a look of askance on his face. He knew Max had gone to look for Alec, but Alec wasn't with her.

"He's not coming back," Max said in clipped tones, trying not to let the hurt show. "He's moved on, for good."

Normal looked down at his clipboard, suddenly very interested in his list of deliveries. "Fine. Fine," he said roughly, without looking up. "You're back. You two'll never leave me alone otherwise."

"Thanks, Normal!" Max said with forced cheer, turning away from the counter. That was easier than she thought it would be. At least he hadn't asked her about Alec.

"You'll have to use his locker," Normal called out as her back was turned. "It's the only one left."

Max stopped dead in her tracks and stiffened. There was no doubt about whose locker Normal wanted her to use. She felt OC's hand come to rest on her shoulder and give her a light squeeze, offering silent support. She was grateful for it. She took a bracing breath and headed over to the lockers to deal with the remains of a life the man she loved had once lived.

* * *

Max stood in front of Alec's locker, arms crossed.

She'd been standing there for about fifteen minutes now. She had asked Original Cindy if she could have some time alone. She wasn't really sure how she was going to react when she opened that locker, and she just wanted a few minutes alone to deal. OC had run interference with the rest of the messengers for a while, keeping them away from this area, until Normal had sent her out with a package. She hadn't really noticed her friend was gone until a voice called out to her.

"You gonna open that, or just stare at it."

Max's head whipped around, and she saw a guy undoing the lock on a locker a couple of feet away. His blonde hair was too long in the front, hanging down into his eyes. He tilted his head at her and grinned, and two very pronounced dimples graced his cheeks. He seemed to realize that he had taken her off guard, so he dropped his bag in front of his locker and took a step toward her, holding out his hand. "I'm Flynn."

Ah. So this was Flynn. Max glared at his hand until he reddened slightly and pulled it down, tucking both hands in his pockets. "Okaaaay. So, you uh... forget you number or somethin'?" he asked, rocking on the balls of his feet.

Max continued to glare, and his blush deepened. This guy was from Manticore? She looked away, staring once again at the locker. "Somethin' like that." Better to lie than try to explain.

"Hey, I could get it open for you. I'm real good with locks," Flynn began, taking a step toward Alec's locker and reaching for the lock.

Without realizing what she was doing, Max grabbed Flynn and spun him away, slamming him hard against the lockers, her hands fisted in his shirt. Flynn's eyes flew wide and his hands immediately raised in a sign of surrender. "Easy! Hey, I was only trying to help."

Max realized what she was doing and released him, easing a few steps back from him. "Sorry."

Flynn shrugged to readjust his clothing. "No prob." He eyed her for a moment with piercing blue eyes, the kind that seemed too blue to be real. Then those eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms across his chest. "You're Max, aren't you?"

Max didn't answer. She moved forward toward Alec's locker and began to fiddle with the lock, listening for the tumblers to fall as she turned the knob. Flynn leaned his shoulder against the locker next to her and stared at her with a satisfied look on his face.

"You are. You have to be, considering what you just did to me there. I didn't recognize you for a second. I mean, Original Cindy described you to me, but you look kind of different than what I thought."

Max was pointedly ignoring him, but he wasn't discouraged. His dimples were out in full force. "I don't mean you look different as in _bad _different. Just _different_ different." Flynn paused, comparing the Max he had envisioned to the Max in front of him. "I guess I was expecting someone a little more... I don't know... badass."

Alec's lock gave way, and Max yanked it from the locker and jerked the door open, creating a small barrier between her and Flynn. She held on tightly to the locker door, metal creaking slightly under her grip, as she stared at the annoying X5. "You need a demonstration?"

Flynn raised his hands again in surrender. "Hey. Just making conversation."

Max turned away and stared into Alec's locker, without really seeing. "Don't," Max snapped. Why couldn't he leave her alone? She didn't want him there, smelling like that unique smell of cat and man, close enough to remind her of what, for one brief moment, she'd had but different enough to remind her of what she had lost.

"Come on, it can't be that bad." Flynn leaned in and lowered his voice. "I mean, nothing could be as bad as Manticore, right? So what's the problem? You can tell me. I'm a real good listener."

"My problem," Max said, slamming Alec's locker shut and turning to face Flynn, "is that I have this extremely annoying person all up in my business, and he can't seem to take a hint. Think you can help me out with that?"

Flynn frowned, disappointment clearly showing on his face. He had an overwhelming desire to be friends with everybody, mostly because for most of his life, he hadn't had any. Back when he'd had no name, he'd always thought there was no point in getting attached to people who could be there one day, dead and gone the next. Now that he was out in the world, he felt like he could finally make those attachments, and he wanted them, more than anything.

"Look," Flynn said matter-of-factly, "I was just trying to be nice. Besides, our kind should stick together. Strength in numbers and all that. And you looked... well, like you could use a friend, is all."

Max re-locked Alec's locker and pushed past Flynn, refusing to look at him. "I don't need any more friends."

* * *

Max went back later that evening, long after Jam Pony had closed for business. She slipped in undetected--Normal's security was pathetic, really--and went to take care of her own business.

She had to force herself to open Alec's locker. Her fingers didn't seem to want to obey her commands at first, but she gritted her teeth and made them comply. Each move she made, as she undid the lock and opened the door, was very deliberate. Concentrate on the task at hand, and she wouldn't have too much time to think.

She didn't know what she had been expecting. Some grand revelation into Alec's character maybe. Some special memento that would remind her of days long gone. When she looked at the scattered contents of Alec's locker, she actually laughed out loud at herself. She'd been afraid of this?

There was the usual junk you'd find in any bike messenger's locker: biker gloves, deodorant, comb, junk food. And then there were things that were somewhat particular to the man Alec had been before he left Seattle: condoms, matchbooks for various strip clubs, a roll of bills in a fake shaving cream can, and two address books (one for business and one for pleasure). But nothing that threatened to crack the control she managed to exert on her emotions.

She tossed the food, but stuffed the rest of the items into the bag she had brought with her. She knew that she should get rid of it, but she couldn't take that step. She could not bring herself to let go of him completely.

Maybe one day, she would learn to let go. Until that day, she would survive the best she could.

* * *

Alec sat on a rock next to the campfire he had built in the shadow of the mesa. It got pretty cold in the desert at night--cold and dark. He didn't really care for the dark much. There were too many bad memories in the dark.

He'd gathered what tinder he could find and built a semi-respectable fire. Later, he'd climb into the thermal sleeping bag inside of his small tent, but for now, he wanted what heat and light the fire would give him.

The warmth of the flames never made it further than the surface of his skin. It could not combat the cold fear inside of him, which was growing with every beat of his heart. Every beat of his heart made his head ache with pain, and the voice inside was a cacophony of sound he could no longer distinguish, except for certain moments when it would gather itself into perfect clarity to give him a message he did not want to hear.

He feared that if it went on much longer, he would either slip into complete insanity or die from a brain aneurism. If it stopped the pain, he was all for either option.

He didn't stare into the flames, but at the item sitting across the fire from him, and item he had deliberately placed out of his reach. A Desert Eagle .357 Magnum. His last line of defense.

If you had to blow your own head off, you might as well do it right.

He'd bought the gun back in Cali, not long after he'd left Max standing in that alley. He'd placed it at the very bottom of his pack, making it hard to reach. He didn't want to have to use it, but if there was one thing that he knew, it was that the good guys didn't always win. Sometimes, the good guys went out with a blaze of glory. Sometimes they went out, as a dead poet had said--_and wasn't it crazy that he was thinking about dead poets, crazy that Manticore had even thought to teach him poetry alongside the fine art of assassination_--not with a bang but a whimper.

If it came to a choice between a bang or a whimper, he'd take the bang every time.

An hour ago, he'd found the gun in his hand. He didn't remember digging it out of his pack. It was suddenly there in his hand, and he was methodically flicking the safety on and off. On and off. One and off. While he held it in his hand, one clear thought came out of the chaos in his mind.

_Use it._

Those words had woken him from his spell. He'd flicked the safety back on and carefully placed the gun on top of a rock across from his tent, on the other side of the campfire. Then he'd walked around the fire and sat down, staring into the flames while he worked to still the frenzied beat of his heart. But he found his eyes would always return to the gun.

He'd thought that things would get better, out here on his own, in the silence. They had not. They had gotten much, much worse. As pain spiked through his head, he wondered if his mental state had taken a nosedive because it had already been headed in that direction, or because he'd left Max. He'd thought that she'd been a distraction that was keeping him from concentrating on what he had to do, but now he as having second thoughts. Maybe Max was that one thing that had helped him keep it together for as long as he had. Maybe she was the only thing that could save him, and now it was too late. He needed her, and he had pushed her away.

No. He would not accept that. He could do this without Max. He had to. If for nothing more than his own self-worth, to prove to himself that he was not weak. Besides, this had happened before. At least, he was pretty sure that it had happened before. He couldn't quite remember all of his last weeks in Psy Ops, but he was pretty sure that things had gotten worse before they got better. Darkness before the dawn and all that.

He had to do this, on his own. He'd done it once, he could do it again. It was just going to be a little tougher this time. He'd let it go on for far too long, and the voice had gotten comfortable, inside his head. But he could do this. He was determined.

And still, the gun called to him.

Alec stared at the gun, his mouth a grim line. The fire made mutable light and shadow dance across his face. He dug his fingers into his hands, feeling the bite of his short nails into his palms. Fingers that itched to reach for that gun.

"No," Alec said defiantly, speaking to the gun that called to him. "I'm not ready to give up."

He wasn't ready to cross that final line. Not yet.

* * *

Logan walked into Jam Pony, pausing just inside the entrance as he gave his eyes a moment to adjust to the change in light. Once his eyes adjusted, they immediately began to scan the room as he searched for his target. Inside of him, excitement battled with hurt, with a touch of anger and irritation thrown in. When he spotted her, digging into a locker and nodding absently as Sketchy animatedly rattled on about something or other, hurt won the battle.

He'd thought for sure that Asha had to be wrong when she'd told him that she had spotted Max coming out of Crash last night. No way Max would come back and completely blow him off. But there she was, in the flesh and already back at work. He knew that the last time they had seen each other, they hadn't exactly ended things on good terms, but this… this was like a slap in the face.

Logan wondered if she hadn't let him know she was back because she didn't want to or because she didn't think of it. He wasn't sure which of the two options was worse.

He moved to the end of the row of lockers and stood there, watching her. God, he had missed her. So many nights he had lain awake in his bed, worrying about her. He had been so afraid that Alec would hurt her, but he'd been more afraid of the reverse. What haunted him the most was the thought that the repressed sexual tension between the pair of transgenics would finally explode, and that Alec would be able to give Max something that, thanks to the virus, Logan could never give.

But Alec was gone. At least, that was what he figured. Asha said he hadn't been at Crash, and Logan hadn't spotted him here at Jam Pony. From the way Max was acting, he didn't think that she had brought Alec back with her. He tried not to be too happy about that little fact.

He began to worry about Max even more when she didn't notice him standing there. Max usually noticed things like that. It was a holdover from the military training of her youth, as well as a good survival instinct.

He cleared his throat and was shocked that Sketchy looked up first. Seeing the look on Logan's face, Sketchy fell silent. He bopped Max on the shoulder and quipped "Later," before making a hasty exit. Only when Sketchy left did Max finally turn her head and realize Logan was standing there.

She blanched and her mouth fell open slightly. "Logan," she said quietly, barely above a whisper.

"Hey, Max," he said somewhat awkwardly, shoving his hands into his pockets.

A myriad of emotions crossed Max's face before she shut them down and turned back to face her locker, roughly rooting around in a way that made Logan sure it was all pretense.

He didn't know how to deal with this situation. He was mad at her and so relieved to see her all at once that it was sending him into a tailspin. He didn't really know what he wanted from her, but he'd start with some answers.

"So. Care to tell me why I had to find out secondhand you were back in town?" He kept his voice calm and level so he wouldn't betray how much her actions had hurt him.

Max dug around in her locker some more as she spoke, avoiding looking at him. "Been busy."

"Yeah," Logan said flatly. "I see that." He paused, hoping that Max would say something. When she didn't, he sighed slightly and asked, "How long you been back?"

Max sniffed and looked down at the floor. "Coupl'a days," she replied to his question. When Logan was silent, she finally raised her head and looked at him. He stared at her with those blue eyes that seemed to drill right into your soul. He didn't even have to say anything. All he had to do was look. Max huffed and slammed the locker shut. "A week, okay? Christ."

Logan folded his arms across his chest. "And you couldn't just pick up the phone and call."

"Hot run! 5th and Pike!" Normal's voice yelled out above the noisy chaos that was Jam Pony.

Max's head shot up, and she sidestepped around Logan, giving him a wide birth, then jogged up to Normal and grabbed the package. "On it!" she yelled, and grabbed her bike and began to push it out the door.

Logan frowned and followed Max out the door. "Hey..." he began, but he was cut off as she interrupted him.

"Logan, I'm working here," Max replied, pushing the package into her messenger bag with one hand as she pushed her bike away from Jam Pony with the other.

"Max, we need to talk."

Max came to an abrupt halt, causing Logan to jerk to a stop and take a wary step backward. "About what?!" she snapped. "What is there left to talk about?"

Logan drew his head back, a little shocked by Max's outburst. There was something more to this than Alec not coming back with her. "What happened?"

This was exactly why she had been avoiding Logan. He knew what had happened to Alec, and she knew that he would have questions. Logan was always big on questions. Part of his cyberjournalist mentality, she guessed. But she couldn't talk about what had happened. Not to Logan.

"Why do you want to know? Because last time I checked, you could care less what happened to Alec."

"Max," he said in that semi-chastising tone that he sometimes had.

Max slung the messenger bag over her shoulder and jerked on it hard to adjust it. "I don't want to talk about it, all right?" she said, and she hated that her voice cracked at the end of the sentence.

Logan swallowed hard. Max rarely let any emotions show. For her emotions to be so close to the surface... something bad must have happened. "Are you all right?" he asked softly.

Max closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them, she looked Logan in the eyes. "No," she said, then after a long pause, said, "but I will be."

"What can I do?" Logan offered.

The corner of Max's mouth quirked slightly. "I need you to back off for a while, okay? I need some time to deal with this. So I'm not gonna return your calls, and I'm not gonna go on any EO missions, or drop in for pasta. I need some space. Just for a little while, all right?"

Logan nodded, lowering his gaze. He rocked back onto his heels, then looked at her over the top of his glasses. "I'll be here if you need me."

This time, Max did smile. "You always are."

* * *

Three months passed. Max fell back into her routine at Jam Pony as if she had never left. And no matter how much she wanted him to disappear, Flynn was always there.

She tried to hate him, but he didn't make it easy on her. He took all of the crap deliveries that Normal continually tossed her way as some form of punishment. He offered to work extra shifts so that the rest of them wouldn't have to work overtime. He went out of his way to be nice to her. He was a nice guy. There was nothing wrong with him. But he wasn't Alec, and that was reason enough to hate him.

After a long day of delivering packages in shitty weather, everyone had met up at Crash to unwind. Flynn was there as usual, but Max went out of her way to avoid him. Lately, it seemed like his attention to her was bordering on something more serious. Maybe she was imagining it, but she rather avoid him than find out.

Flynn, however, was raised a proud soldier. Do or die was his motto.

He managed to corner her, barring her path with his arm as she was heading back the hallway toward the bathrooms. The inconveniently empty hallway. Figured.

"So, what's your deal, Max?" Flynn asked, unusually serious. "I go outta my way to be nice to you, and you stomp me flat."

Max looked up into his eyes, her own brown battling with his blue. "Look, Flynn, you're a nice guy and all, but I'm just not interested." In a blur of movement, she ducked under his arm and headed for the bathroom.

Flynn spun on his heel and followed her. "Why not?" he asked, the humor returning to his voice. "I smell or somthin'?" He raised his arm and took a wiff of his armpit. Nope, that wasn't it.

Max shook her head at typical idiotic male behavior and pushed open the door to the bathroom. Flynn followed still, right into the women's bathroom.

"Hey!" the girl powdering her nose at the sink protested, glaring at Max as if the male interloper was all her fault.

Max returned the glare, until the girl began to shift uncomfortably. Flynn stayed out of it, apparently deciding to let Max handle this little showdown. The girl finally lowered her gaze, stuffed her compact bag into her bag, and pushed past the pair of X5s. Max watched her go, then realized that Flynn hadn't left with her. She made a frustrated noise in the back of her throat. Wasn't there anywhere she could escape him?

"So, what's your issue with me? Come on, you can tell me," Flynn coaxed. "I really wanna know."

Max spun and poked him in the chest. "What is it about you transgenic guys? All think you're God's gift. Think a girl's gotta be crazy not to fall at your feet."

"How 'bout if I fall at your feet?" he replied with a lot of humor and a little bit of smarm.

Max rolled her eyes. "Go away, Flynn."

Flynn's ever-present smile finally fell from his face. "It's him, isn't it? Alec."

Original Cindy had been unusually quiet about the guy, but Sketchy and a few of the others had told him stories about the guy. Cece had confirmed that the guy had been X5, and that Max had gone to hunt him down, but that was all any of the transgenics were willing to tell him. Max remained stonily silent, but something in her face gave her away. A look that spoke of longing as well as loss. "Yeah," Flynn replied somberly, deflating a bit. "That's what I thought."

Max turned to the sink and splashed water on her suddenly too-hot face. She hadn't spoken Alec's name in over two months. She'd forced herself to stop thinking about him all the time. She'd made herself forget what it had felt like to be in his arms.

Max bowed over the sink, armed braced on either side. She thought she had been trying so hard to get over him, but hearing his name after so long, she knew that she was no closer to getting over Alec than the day he had disappeared from her life.

"I knew him, you know," Flynn continued, leaning against the door to one of the stalls. "Back at _school_," he said pointedly, giving Max a look. He slumped, leaning heavily against the metal behind him. "Well, I guess that explains things. He always was kind of a hard act to follow." Flynn sighed, running a hand through his shaggy blonde hair. "That's too damn bad. I've kinda had this thing for you."

Max jerked upright; her face reflected back in the mirror looked a little panicked. Up until this little confrontation, Flynn had been casual about his attentions towards her. The thought of him increasing those intentions made her very uncomfortable. She raised her eyes to look past her own reflection, and saw Flynn's give her a small smile. "Don't worry," he said softly. "I'll get over it."

Flynn turned to leave, had reached the door and was about to push it open when he paused. "I'm not the only one, you know. That's interested," he added, clarifying. "There's a whole lot of transgenics 'round here these days. You know how guys are; they talk. There's been a lot of talk about you, lately. Hot girl, all on her own? It's like a challenge. Thought you should be prepared."

He bit his bottom lip for a moment, head bowed as he raised a fist and pushed it absently against the doorjamb. He took a deep breath and let it out, as if he was trying to gather courage for something. "It wasn't about the challenge for me. I just… wanted you to know that." He gave her a flash of dimples one last time, then slipped out the door.

Max stared at her reflection in the mirror. She didn't like the person that stared back at her. The person that stared back at still looked like the confident, tough-as-nails, kickass girl she used to be, but that was only on the outside. Inside, she was a shadow of herself.

She couldn't remember the last time that a smile on her face had been genuine, or that her laughter hadn't been forced. She didn't even bother to try to think of the last time she had actually had fun. She was an automaton, just going through the motions. Alec's words from the last day she had spent with him came back to her: _We're not moving forward, Max. We're just standing still. Can't you see that? _

He was right, then and now. She _was _standing still--unable to go back, yet unwilling to move forward. Moving forward would mean letting go for good, but how could she do that? She thought that by keeping him out of her thoughts, that she would learn to live without him. She could see now that it was all a lie. She hadn't learned to live without him. She loved him as much as she ever did, if not more. The pretense of letting go had disguised the reality that she was holding on tighter than ever.

It had to stop.

She could not live the rest of her life longing for a man who was never coming back. She wanted to be happy. She wanted to laugh and have fun and be herself again. She wanted a future, maybe even a family someday. Most of all, she wanted to look at herself in the mirror and not hate the person looking back at her.

She had to let go.

Letting go meant letting other people in. People like Flynn and the other transgenics that had been showing up in droves lately. She had to stop blindly hating everyone that tried to get close to her. If she kept doing that, one day her life would be very empty.

But that was for another day. She wasn't ready to let other people in. Not yet. She couldn't stand the thought of another man touching her, of placing his hands where Alec's hands had once been, of someone kissing lips that had last been kissed by Alec. She didn't want another guy in her life. Right now, she just wanted them all to leave her alone.

* * *

Hours later, Max stood inside the Space Needle, stoking the fire she had built in a shallow depression in the metal flooring. She would have done it outside, but she feared that the light would draw attention.

One by one, she dropped the items that she had kept from Alec's locker into the flames and watched them burn. She had a hard time letting go of his biker gloves. She ran her hands over the supple leather, imagining the hands they had once encased. Realizing what she was doing, Max huffed and tossed the gloves into the flames. The leather crackled as it began to burn.

At the very last, she pulled out a worn piece of cardboard from her back pocket. Alec's note. She hesitated for a moment, then closed her eyes as she dropped it into the fire and let it burn.

Max slowly opened her eyes and stared into the flames, watching the mementos go up in smoke. She frowned. "Christ, I've become a fuckin' cliché." She turned her back on her own person chick-flick moment, then climbed out on top of the Space Needle.

She stood and stared at the horizon, the lights of the city blazing before her. She squared her shoulders, and then slowly, her lips curved upwards into a small smile.

"Goodbye, Alec," she said simply, and she imagined the wind carried the words to wherever he happened to be. She turned and headed out of the Space Needle, ready to get on with the business of moving forward.

* * *

Over a thousand miles away, Alec lay on his back on top of the mesa, staring up at the stars. He had climbed up there before sundown, with nothing but his hands, feet, and transgenic strength to aid him.

He was thinner. Even though he had harshly rationed himself, he'd run out of supplies a two weeks ago. He had been doing the survivalist thing since then, living off what he could find or catch. He had let his hair grow shaggy, though he did make the effort to shave occasionally. His skin was no longer pale, but darkened to a deep bronze.

His entire body was strung so taut that half of his muscles seemed ready to snap.

He'd been there for hours, laying on his back, eyes wide and hands clenched into fists. He was waiting. Waiting for something to happen, but desperately hoping that it would not. He was afraid to move. Afraid to breathe, to do anything but lay there and wait. Until then, he listened to nothing.

Nothing. Wonderful, blessed silence.

It had been so long since he'd been alone in his own head. He was afraid that it was temporary. Afraid the voice would come back worse than ever, and the mind-numbing pain with it. But he'd been waiting for hours now, and there was nothing.

Silence.

He didn't want to get his hopes up, but it was too late. The silence was too compelling. If something happened and the voice came back, he knew that he would pick up that Desert Eagle and put a bullet through his brainpan.

He'd wait until dawn. If dawn came, and still there was nothing, then maybe that would mean something. But until then, he would wait and listen to the wonderful symphony of silence.

* * *

A/N: The dead poet referenced is T.S. Eliot, his poem "The Hollow Men."

Because I am quite possibly evil, I will tell you that the next chapter is called Moving On. Stew on it.


	20. Moving On

Gone

By Inzane

Disclaimer: I don't own Dark Angel, twenty times over.

Summary: How much abuse can a guy take before he snaps? Events in Hello, Goodbye take a different turn. AU from that point.

A/N: Have I scared any of you away? I'm afraid that maybe I have. I guess the question is, do you trust me enough to hang in there to see where it all goes in the end?

* * *

Chapter 20: Moving On

When Max made the decision to finally get on with her life, she hadn't realized how hard it would be. She figured that she'd made up her mind to move on, so her heart would just follow right along. But Max's heart was no so easily moved. That same stubborn heart had taken a long time to accept what she felt for Alec, and once it finally had, it was hard to convince it to let go. Max found that the process was slow, and it didn't come easy.

She cautiously began to let other people back into her life. Ever since she had returned to Seattle, she had kept herself emotionally isolated from anyone new--it didn't matter whether they only wanted to be friends or if they wanted something more. She had pushed everyone away, and mostly, they had gotten the message and stayed away. But not always.

Flynn hadn't gotten the message. She had practically beaten Flynn over the head with the message, but he had cheerfully ignored it. It was no wonder he had insinuated himself so quickly into her friends' lives while she was gone. He didn't care if you didn't like him; he just kept hanging around, flashing those dimples and being disgustingly optimistic, until you did. It hadn't hurt that the boy would do anything for anybody. He was the embodiment of selflessness. Once Max had decided that she had to stop pushing people away, it was easy for Flynn to slip in and find a place in her heart.

But Flynn hadn't been the only one to ignore the message. He'd warned Max that he wasn't the only one that was interested in her. It wasn't long after their little conversation at Crash that other X5s began hitting on her. She turned them down, every single one, sometimes with a little more force than necessary. But transgenic males, as a whole, where a very persistent bunch. They didn't give up easy.

* * *

Two months after that night at Crash, Aries--a handsome, dark-haired X5 with obvious delusions of grandeur--cornered her in the supply room as she was stocking newly acquired medical goods for TC.

"Hey, Maxie," Aries said in a low, smooth voice as he came up behind her, gettin' way too inside her personal space. He was so close she could feel his breath on her neck.

Max felt her anger rise at his use of the nickname. There was only one man who she could tolerate using that name, and Aries was definitely not that man. She jabbed an elbow roughly backwards, and was pleased to hear the small grunt of pain. "Don't call me that," she snapped, twitching her shoulders and re-focusing on the task in front of her.

"Come on, girl, don't be like that."

"I'll be whatever way I want."

Aries laughed. "You can't tell me you wanna stock shelves on a night like tonight. 'Specially when you could be out with me instead. Just not right--girl as hot as you, no one to get your juices flowing."

Max pursed her lips and turned around to face him, crossing her arms over her chest. "And I suppose you think you could get the job done?"

Aries smiled smugly. The look on his face was answer enough.

Max brought a hand to her chin and looked upward as if in deep thought. "Gee, lemme think. A night with you, or another hour in here sorting medical supplies? Hmmm... I think I'll stick with the Band-Aids, thank you very much."

The smile died from Aries face. "I don't think I buy this frigid bitch act you got going. I think it's just a cover. " He took a step toward her, and there was a touch of menace in the move. His eyes boldly raked over her body. "I bet there's all sorts of interesting things underneath, just waitin' there for the right guy to get under those covers." With that, Aries reached forward to touch her.

Max shifted her weight to the balls of her feet, ready to make a move; no way she was letting that sleeze lay a hand on her. She was about to give the self-named god of war a lesson in just how much of a bitch she could be when Aries was suddenly propelled backwards.

Max's eyes widened as Aries was pulled out of the small room and slammed into the opposite wall. Flynn--the same Flynn that had rescued a kitten for a little girl just the other day--had Aries around the throat. The look on Flynn's face reminded her that he was not the harmless, sweet boy he pretended to be, but a genetically engineered supersoldier.

"I would think twice about that if I were you, Aries," Flynn growled, and the sound of his voice made the hair on the back of Max's neck stand on end.

Aries struggled against Flynn's grip, but was unable to break it. "Whadda you care, Flynn? Not like you been hittin' that."

Max took a threatening step toward Aries and opened her mouth to tell the asshole off, but Flynn beat her to the punch. He smiled coldly, then brought up his knee, hard, into Aries' groin, sending the other X5 crumbling to the ground. Aries made little mewling noises of pain as he curled into a ball on the ground, clutching his damaged goods.

Flynn stared down at Aries, a look of disgust on his face. "Looks like _you _won't be hittin' much of anything any time soon, my friend." Flynn looked up at Max, expecting that she would be happy to see him, but his brow wrinkled in confusion at the anger on Max's face. That anger wasn't directed at Aries; it was directed at him.

Max stepped over the prone Aries and pushed roughly past Flynn. He turned and followed after her, jogging a bit to catch up. "Hey! Max!" he yelled out, but Max was heading for the door at the end of the hall, which led outside. She crashed into the door, slamming it open and surging out into the night.

Flynn followed her out, but came to an abrupt halt when Max spun on him and poked a finger in his chest. "I could'a handled him, goddammit. I don't need you to take care of me. I don't need anyone to take care of me!"

Flynn reached up and rubbed his chest where Max had poked him. "Jeez, is that why you're mad at me? Give me a break, here." He paused, trying to gauge Max's mood. He still wasn't very good at it. "Look," he continued, "I know you can handle yourself, but I figured you beating a guy to a bloody pulp was bad for morale. If you feel like pounding on someone, you can take a swing at me. Try not to go for the face, though." Flynn adjusted his collar and pursed his lips theatrically. "I got a hot date tonight."

As he suspected, his words had the desired affect.

Max's anger fizzled out; she could never stay angry at Flynn for very long. She tried to stifle a smile. "Don't know if any date with you could qualify as _hot_."

"Hey, don't knock it 'till you've tried it."

She wrinkled her nose in mock disgust. "I'll pass. Pansy ass like you wouldn't be able to handle what I got to offer, anyway."

Max's tone was teasing. Flynn had indeed found a place in her heart, but it was as a friend, not as a lover. She'd actually become as close to him as she was to Joshua. She had tried, after she had said goodbye to Alec, to make herself feel something more for Flynn, but it was no use. She just didn't look at him that way. The problem was, she didn't look at anyone that way anymore. Maybe Aries wasn't so far off the mark with that frigid bitch comment.

Max stifled a sigh. Her love life, or serious lack thereof, wasn't the issue here. She began to walk down the street, and Flynn fell into step beside her. "So you finally man up and ask Ari out?" she asked, giving him an assessing look.

Flynn blushed. How could you not like a guy that blushed? "Not even like that, Max. I was… um… waiting for the right moment."

"Riiiiiight." Max reached over and ruffled his hair. Then she slowed, and Flynn slowed with her, until they came to a stop in the glare of the only unbroken streetlamp on Oak Street. She stared at him, and now that her anger had disappeared completely, she could see the tension radiating from him. "So, you nervous?" she asked.

"Hell, yeah," Flynn blurted.

"Don't be. If she can't see what a great guy you are, then she's just plain stupid."

"_You _didn't," Flynn groused, pouting. He wasn't seriously pouting. He'd accepted the fact that Max didn't feel that way about him, so he'd put aside his attraction for her. He was glad he did, because Max had become his best friend.

And if he still happened to be carrying a teeny, tiny torch for her, well, that didn't really hurt anyone, now did it?

Max smirked at the pout. "Guess I'm not as smart as I used to be," she said.

"Obviously," Flynn scoffed. "I mean, what girl with half a brain would turn down this package," he said, holding his arms out, displaying said package.

Max made a gagging noise and put a hand over her mouth. "I think I just threw up," she muttered.

Flynn laughed, but it died quickly, his face suddenly serious. "So… you think she really likes me? You don't think she was just being nice… you know, like a pity date or somethin'?"

"She said yes, didn't she?"

Flynn bit his lip a moment, "Yeah, but… I really like her. A lot."

Max rolled her eyes at him and gave him a light punch in the arm. "Then tell her, stupid."

It was good advice. She thought of all the times she could have told Alec how she felt about him but didn't. Max pushed that thought from her mind as quickly as it had come.

Flynn took a cleansing breath and sighed, "Okay." He paused, and they walked in silence for a moment until Flynn grabbed her arm and pulled her to a stop. "Thanks, Max," he said sincerely.

Max patted the hand on her arm. "Sure. Just do me a favor."

"Anything."

His response came immediately, completely sincere and without a hint of hesitation. She knew he meant it, too. He would do anything for her; all she had to do was ask. It was too bad that she would never be able to think of him as anything but a brother.

"Spare me the sordid details," she told him.

Flynn grinned, and his dimples came out in full force. He threw a mock punch at her shoulder. "Deal."

As they continued to walk down Oak Street, with Flynn chatting away about Ari, Max thought about how happy he sounded. He'd found someone he really cared about. She wished she could find someone like that; she really did. She remembered how her skin had crawled at the feeling of Aries' breath on the back of her neck. She thought about him, or some other guy, touching her skin, wrapping his arms around her, and she shuddered. She knew she didn't want to remain celibate for the rest of her life, but she just didn't think she was ready. All she needed was a little more time.

The problem was, the X5s around here didn't seem to understand her whole _time _dealio. She was getting tired of fending them off. Sooner or later, some guy wouldn't take no for an answer, and then it would end in bloodshed. _His _blood.

How many times had she heard it? _Hot girl like you, all on her own_... they were like a goddamn broken record, all of them. She wished that they would just back off, at least until she learned how to let someone touch her again.

Flynn's voice gradually faded out as Max's thoughts focused to a single point.

_Touch_.

There was only one person in this world that she didn't have to worry about when it came to that.

* * *

Original Cindy walked into the bathroom to apply mostly unnecessary enhancements to her already fine lookin' self. She was sure there was some poor lickety-boo at Crash that had no idea that she was missing out on the most original of Cindy's, and OC was planning to put whoever that was out of her misery.

She came to an abrupt halt when she saw Max standing in front of the mirror, putting on red lip gloss. Her hair had been brushed until it gleamed, and she was wearing a red, form-fitting shirt with her black leather pants.

OC couldn't remember the last time Max had decked herself out. Well, actually, she did. It was when they had dressed up to infiltrate the fight club and save Alec.

"'S'up wit' you, boo?" Cindy asked, tilting her head quizzically.

"Gettin' changed. What's it look like?" Max replied, then pressed her lips together to smooth out the gloss. When Cindy just stared at her, Max turned to face her. "What? I can't be a girl once in a while?"

"Not lately, no." Cindy said flatly. She crossed her arms and stared her friend down. "So what you up to that you bein' all female?"

Max turned back to the mirror and began to fuss with her hair, which made OC immediately suspicious. She recognized an avoidance tactic when she saw it. "You up to somethin', girl. What is it?" She paused, then gave Max a crooked grin. "You plannin' to hook up with someone at Crash?" OC really hoped that was the case. Her friend had been celibate for far too long. There was nothing wrong with having a little extracurricular fun.

"Just gonna stop by Logan's and say hi. No big," Max said quietly, as if she knew her friend would not approve.

"What the fuck, Max!" Cindy blurted out. This was not good. This was a step in the wrong direction, and Cindy knew it. "You can't be serious. After how that man treated you?!"

Original Cindy had still not forgiven Logan for the way he had treated Max while they were in California, and especially for the way he had acted when Max had called him. She'd given the asshole a taste of Original Cindy's mind over that one, and it definitely didn't settle well on the man's stomach. Since then, they'd pretty much avoided each other for the most part.

Max walked past Cindy and out of the bathroom. She grabbed her leather jacket and shrugged into it. "That was a tense situation, Cindy. I think we all said some things that we regret."

"What, so you're lettin' him off da hook, jus' like that?"

"I guess I am. It's time I put the past behind me, once and for all."

Cindy's eyes narrowed. "Is that what you're doin'? 'Cause somehow, I don't think so. I think you about to go an' do somethin' stupid."

Max heaved an exasperated sigh. "Look, it's not like I'm going out for a night of wild sex or somethin'! We can't even touch, for God's sake!"

Cindy drew her head back as the lightbulb went on over her head. "That's the point, isn't it? You can't touch."

Max turned to head out the door. "I don't know what you're talkin' about."

OC grabbed Max's arm to stop her, causing Max's head to whip around in shock. "You know damn well what I'm talkin' about, boo. You been keepin' everyone at arm's length since you got back here. I know the mens be sniffin' 'round you, but you push 'em away, every one. Jesus, Max, you can hardly be civil to any of 'em but Sketch, Josh, and Flynn."

She trailed off, and she could see that her words hit home. After a moment, she lowered her voice and said firmly, "But Logan's not a threat, is he? Can't touch, so can't invade that bubble you been buildin' up around you."

Max placed a hand over Cindy's hand and gently removed it. "I'm just lookin' for a friend, Cin. That's all. There's nothin' else to read into it. Logan and me were good friends, once. I'd like to get back to that."

That's what Max told herself, what she made herself believe. She wasn't running from anything.

Cindy nodded, but her lips turned down into a frown. "Yeah, but will that be all he's lookin' for?"

Max zipped up her jacket with a sharp snick and turned to leave. As she walked away from her friend, whose words came too close to the truth she steadfastly denied, she muttered, "That's all he's gonna get."

* * *

"Are you sure this information is legit? Seems like this could be a fake."

_Would I have given you that disk if I didn't think it legit? Give me some credit here, Logan._

Logan took off his glasses and tossed them on his desk. He leaned back and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand while the other held the phone to his ear. "Sorry, Asha. I've been trying to crack the code on this disc for three days now, and I've got a headache like you wouldn't believe."

He'd been working day and night to try to crack the code on the disc Asha had given him. It supposedly contained a blackmail material against several prominent citizens and government officials that a local drug dealer and gun runner had collected to ensure that he stayed in business. Rumor had it that several of these government officials had accepted bribes to look the other way. But the disc was heavily encrypted, and the only progress he'd made was reaching new levels of frustration.

_S1W went through a lot of effort to get you that disk, Logan. Anders took one in the side trying to escape. I don't think Kashima would've protected it so well if it was a fake._

Logan sighed. He could hear the defensiveness in Asha's tone. "I know. I was just hoping, I guess. Burns me up I can't crack this thing."

_Have you eaten anything recently?_

"I'm pretty sure I had a bagel at some point," he answered wryly.

_Well, there's your problem right there. Why don't I pick up some Chinese and come over? I'm sure a break would do you some good, and I could eat. ... Logan. Logan?_

Logan hadn't heard Asha's suggestion. He had tuned out after the word _problem_, phone drifting from his ear as he rose to his feet in shock.

There, leaning casually against the opposite wall with her hands stuffed into her pockets, was Max. The one woman he just couldn't seem to get over. His heart flip-flopped in his chest, and he was amazed, even after all this time and everything that had passed between them, that she could still have this affect on him.

Logan put the phone back to his ear and heard Asha calling out his name in confusion. "I'll have to call you back," he muttered distractedly into the phone.

_Wait, Logan..._

Logan hit the disconnect button, then slowly placed the phone on his desk, as if he was afraid that any sudden motion might scare her away. "Max," he said hoarsely, a touch of awe in his voice.

"Hey," Max said, shrugging slightly. She pushed away from the wall and crossed the room, keeping her hands in her pockets. When she closed to withing five feet, she stopped, leaving the old, familiar distance between them.

Neither of them spoke, and the silence between them was far from comfortable. Max rocked forward onto the balls of her feet and then bounced up a down a bit, filled with nervous energy. Here she was, in Logan's apartment, as she had been so many times before. It felt weird, but oddly comforting at the same time. Although she didn't consciously think about it, it was the enforced distance between them that put her at ease.

"So," she said, unable to take the silence anymore. It would be up to her to extend the olive branch. After all, she had been the one to tell him to back off. "Got any pasta?"

* * *

That night, Max and Logan had talked for hours, all throughout diner, and after, over some very fine pre-pulse wine. It didn't take them long to fall back into the old routine--after all, since the virus, talking was all they had ever been able to do.

They talked about what Logan had been doing since she had been gone, and what Max had been doing since she returned. They talked about Manticore and Familiars and S1W and Terminal City. But there was one topic that was off limits--Alec. Max didn't offer, and somehow, Logan knew not to ask.

To be honest, Logan didn't _want _to ask. He didn't want to know what had happened between Max and Alec, those three months in California. He figured whatever it was would hurt too much. Alec was gone, and he was happy to let him be gone. It was all water under the bridge to him now. Max was here, with him, by her own choice. It was the first step in rebuilding their friendship. He tried not to, but he couldn't help but hope that one day they could return to what they had once had together, and then go beyond.

It was stupid, really, to desperately desire a woman whose touch would kill you. But he couldn't help it. He loved her--then, now, and always. As much as he had tried to get over her, he knew now that he never would. Max was it for him. She was the one person that touched his heart as no other could. And maybe one day, he would find the cure for the virus and they could explore the possibility of a future together, where there would be no fear between them.

He wouldn't push her. He knew Max. She didn't respond kindly to pushing. And he could see that whatever she had been through in California, she needed time to heal.

He would give her that time. He hoped that one day, when past hurts were forgotten, she would remember what they had once felt for each other and come back to him.

* * *

Max started hanging out at Logan's place after work more and more. She started running a couple of jobs for Eyes Only. When Max casually suggested that Logan meet her at Crash for a beer, he took her up on it. It soon became a regular thing. She even invited him to Terminal City to take a look at their computer setup there, though Mole didn't really care for his interference.

Max Guevara began very visibly dragging Logan back into her life.

She studiously ignored the reality of her situation, but part of her knew what she was doing. Original Cindy had been right. Logan was safe. They couldn't touch, so she didn't have to worry about fending off unwanted advances. But there were side benefits as well. If everyone thought she was involved with Logan, then all but the most persistent transgenics would back off. It would give her the room to live her life the way she wanted to live it.

What she didn't realize, absolutely refused to even think about, was that she was waiting. Deep inside where she hid all of her pain, a small part of her was waiting for Alec to come back. Every guy she saw, she compared to Alec. None could stand against such scrutiny. She couldn't stand to let another man touch her, because no man could move her the way he had moved her. She thought she had convinced herself to let go of him, had convinced herself that she had moved on with her life, but she hadn't. Not really. And that was why she found herself with Logan.

Logan was different. She didn't compare him to Alec. She'd already gotten over what she and Logan had a long time ago. Not that she didn't care about him--she did. But what she felt for him didn't threaten the feelings she had buried deep inside.

Things began to naturally progress in a direction she had never really intended. She couldn't blame Logan for it; he was just responding the way any normal male would respond to a girl hanging around him all the time.

When Logan began reading her poetry, she let him. When he began arranging romantic dinners, she didn't protest. When he surprised her with a little weekend getaway, she went. They couldn't touch, so there would always be that final barrier in between them that would keep her safe.

She went along with everything. She didn't lie to Logan; she just let him believe what he wanted to believe. She let herself believe that she had moved on.

Deep inside, she knew she was living a lie.

She was waiting.

* * *

Alec sat on the top rail of the wooden fencepost, tipped back the brim of his battered hat, and watched the setting sun. The sky had become a riot of color as the sun sank below the horizon. It was almost too beautiful to be real.

Six months. Six months, and the voice had been silent.

After that first blissful night without the voice, he'd spent another week in the desert, waiting for it to return. He kept expecting it to return, expecting to hear that insistent whisper in the back of his head.

It didn't. But still, he could not believe. What little hope had been left in him had faded into nothingness.

One day, he packed up his gear and started walking. Just picked a direction and went. He wasn't really sure what he was looking for until he found it.

He'd come across a cattle ranch, and had applied to the foreman for work. He'd been there for five and a half months now, doing hard labor that callused a man's hands and left him with a good sweat at the end of the day.

It wasn't like Manticore. At Manticore, hard labor usually ended up with somebody dead. At this place, the sweat didn't mingle with blood and the sore muscles felt good. He could lose himself in the wide open spaces, he didn't have to talk if he didn't want to, and people minded their own business. The barcode on his neck had gotten nothing more than a raised eyebrow and a few stupid jokes. Most people didn't even notice it now.

If Max had shown up to drag him back to Seattle, she probably wouldn't have recognized him. He was wearing torn jeans, a loose plaid shirt, mud-covered work boots, and a cowboy hat. There was dirt under his fingernails, scruff on his chin, and his hair, when it wasn't covered by a hat, was a shaggy, hand-combed mess. But the change went deeper than what you saw on the surface.

He was quiet now, and by more than just words. Before, he had been a ball of energy, barely contained and always in motion. His body had seemed to give off a vibrating hum, like a human tuning fork. Unless he'd made a conscious effort not to, he had drawn people's attention just by walking into a room.

Now his energy was leashed, and he was often overcome by such an unnatural stillness that it often startled the other workers on the ranch. Sometimes they didn't notice he was there until someone practically tripped over him.

It was like he had transformed into someone else.

At first, he didn't mind being someone different. It was easier to be someone that hadn't lived through the hell he had lived through. But it was also the coward's way out. He was not a coward--no matter how hard the voice inside of his head had tried to convince him of it over the past year--and after a while, he realized that he didn't want to be someone else. He wanted to be the man he had been; that was the _real _Alec. But there was so much standing in between the Alec he'd become and the Alec he had been, he wasn't sure if it was possible.

Six months with the voice still silent, hope began to creep back into Alec's heart. As he sat on the fence and stared at the horizon, he hesitantly began to think what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. It was hard to figure out where he was going without looking back at where he'd been.

He thought about all of the things that he had done in his life. He did not think about Manticore. He was a little bit older and a lot wiser now, and he knew that he could not take blame for what they made him do. He'd had no choice then. But later, after Manticore had been destroyed… there were a lot of things he'd done that there was no one to blame but himself. For someone so young, he had a hell of a lot of things to atone for.

The things he had done, after he'd lost himself, still haunted him. He'd had a casual disregard for life--_any_ life. His or someone else's, it didn't matter. Those lives were on his hands, and it was something he was going to have to live with the rest of his life. There was nothing he could do for those poor bastards he'd killed in the ring. He had no way to find out who they were, no way he could make amends to their families, if they had any. The only thing he could do was remember each and every one of them and bear the weight of their deaths on his soul.

And then there was Max.

It all started with Max, and it ended with Max. She was alpha and omega on the list of wrongs he had done. A vision of her as he had last seen her flashed into his mind, and he felt a twinge in his chest. He had hurt her, so many times. What he had told her, after they had fought on the roof, had been true. All they had ever done was hurt each other.

It had started out badly between them from day one, though that hadn't been his fault. He'd been following orders. He knew very well what they would have done to him if he had failed again. No, he would not blame himself for the virus. But later, when Max had tracked down that Manticore doctor to work on the cure and he had ruined her chances… that had been his fault.

She had been right. If he had asked for her help in the first place instead of trying to fix it on his own, she wouldn't have had to sell her chance for the cure to save his head. And then he'd gone and messed up her research papers because he'd been too busy seeing dollar signs to notice anything else. He'd ruined her chance to be with Logan, not once, but twice.

And then, in California, he'd hurt her time and time again, physically and mentally, and still she had stayed with him. How could he ever make up for that?

Alec took his hat off and plunked it down on top of the fencepost beside him, then ran a hand through his now sun-streaked hair. "Hey, Boss," he said casually, never taking his eyes from the setting sun.

"Freaks me out when you do that, son. Eyes in the back of your damn head."

Jake Turner slung his arms over the rail and looked at the young man that had shown up looking for work months ago. There had been something about the kid--a look in eyes that told Jake that this kid had seen more in his young life than he ever would--that made him decide to take the boy on. Someone that young shouldn't have eyes like that, and if he could offer some sort of refuge, then he was glad to do so.

Lately, the boy'd had a different look in his eyes. It was a look that he knew well. In the business he was in, you saw that look a lot in the kind of men you employed. Hell, he'd had it in his own eyes plenty of times, back in his youth. It was a look that said you'd stayed too long in one place and were itchin' to move on.

"I gotta go, Jake," Alec said quietly, bowing his head.

Jake nodded his head. "Thought that might be the case. Hate to see you go, Alec. You're a damn fine worker."

They were both silent for a minute, looking out over the land. Jake turned to look at the young man who was worth three of any of his other workers. "You all right?" he asked, honest concern in his voice.

Alec smiled, and it made Jake raise his eyebrows. The boy hardly ever smiled--smirked, yes, but never a true, full smile.

"I'm always all right," Alec answered back, smile still on his face. A familiar answer for a familiar question, but, for the first time in his life he figured, the answer was not a lie.

Alec swung his legs over the fence and hopped down next to Jake. The older man held out his hand, and Alec shook it. Then he squared his shoulders, turned, and walked away.

"Hey, you forgot your hat," Jake called out to Alec's retreating back.

Alec didn't turn, but called out his reply as he walked away. "Not gonna need it where I'm going."

* * *

Flynn scanned the crowd at Crash. He spotted many friends among the crowd, because if there was one thing he was good at, it was making friends. But he was looking for one friend in particular.

Max was sitting at a table off to the side. When Flynn saw who she was sitting with, he frowned. Something about Logan Cale rubbed him the wrong way. Maybe he didn't like the way the man constantly threw Max into harm's way. Could be he didn't like the guy's superior attitude. Or maybe his tiny little ember of feelings, which was all that was left of the torch he'd carried for Max, was jealous. Whatever it was, Logan was one of the few people that Flynn didn't care to really count as a friend. He was friendly to the man, sure, but he wasn't a _friend_.

He waited until Logan got up to go to the restroom. As soon as the man was gone, Flynn slid into his empty seat. Max looked up at him and smiled.

"Hey, Flynn. Where's your better half?" Max asked, looking around for Ari.

Flynn poured himself a beer from the pitcher on the table. "She's watching Sari tonight." Sari was Gem's little one, orphaned when White assaulted Terminal City. Dalton had stepped in to look after the girl, but he was only a boy himself, just sixteen, so the people of TC took turns helping out.

Max nodded and began to take another sip of her beer, but paused when she picked up a weird vibe from Flynn. She narrowed her eyes at him. "What's got you all rotated?" she asked.

Flynn raised his eyebrows and bit his lower lip, then hung his head. _Courage, Flynn, courage. _He blew out a breath to steady himself, then raised his head and looked Max straight in the eye. "You think I don't know what you're doing?"

Max stilled. Then she sniffed and flicked her hair nonchalantly over her shoulder. "Don't know what you're talking about," she told him, looking away to scan the crowd.

He should've known she wouldn't make it easy. "Yes, you do." He stayed silent until Max finally looked back at him, with a look of irritation on her face. "What're you doing with him, Max?"

Max laughed, but inside, her heart was pounding. She did not want to discuss this. She absolutely did not want to discuss this, but she refused to let on that she was upset. "What does it look like we're doing? Hangin' out, havin' a coupl'a beers. It's no big deal."

Okay, here was the hard part. There was a good chance that Max would smack him upside the head or do something even more unpleasant. "It is a big deal to him."

Max's breath caught in her throat, and she looked down. She knew truth when she heard it. She just didn't know what she could say to that.

She didn't have to say anything, because Flynn wasn't finished. He leaned forward across the table and lowered his voice so no one would overhear him. "You shouldn't be with him, Max."

"Why not?" Max asked, and she wished that her voice wasn't so unsteady.

"Because you don't look at him the way he looks at you."

Max's head shot up, eyes wide. So many times she had underestimated Flynn. She'd never really appreciated how perceptive he could be. Maybe that was one of the reasons he was able to make friends so quickly. But that perceptiveness hit too close to home, and when things hit a little too close to home, she tended to get defensive.

"What, so you think I'm using him?" Max shot back, her tone offended.

"Aren't you?" Flynn asked, raising his eyebrows at her.

"Me and Logan are none of your..." Max trailed off, shocked at her own words. She had been about to utter the same words to Flynn that she had said to Alec, the night everything went to hell. She swallowed hard and ran a hand through her hair. Across the room, Logan was coming out of the restroom and starting to make his way toward them. She sighed. "Look, I know what I'm doing, aiight?" she said quietly, her eyes flicking nervously to Logan.

She wondered if what she had said was the truth.

Flynn shrugged. "If you say so. Just didn't want to see you get hurt, is all. I don't like it when my friends get hurt."

Max gave him a small smile, and reached across the table to squeeze his arm. Only a true friend would have the courage to tell you things you didn't want to hear. "Thanks, Flynn," she said quietly, just as Logan made it back to the table.

"Hey, Flynn," Logan said, acknowledging the X5 with a nod. His greeting was a little stiff. He didn't care for Flynn very much, and he suspected that the feeling was mutual. Just the casual squeeze Max had given his arm had made a surge of jealousy run through him. It wasn't so much that he was jealous of Flynn, really, but jealous of the fact that Max was free to touch him without consequences. "How's it goin'?" he added as an afterthought. Flynn was Max's friend, so he had to at least make an effort to be polite.

"Goin' right out the door," Flynn said, rising. "I was just keepin' your seat warm for you. Got to get back to the homestead, you know. Little woman'll be waitin' for me. Just stopped in for a quick beer."

"Ari find out you called her _little woman_, you're gonna need a lot more than beer to dull the pain," Max said slyly, glad that Flynn was leaving and their painful conversation was over.

Flynn laughed. "Don't I know it. Later," he said, clapping Logan on the shoulder before he slid off into the crowd.

Logan eased back down into his chair, rubbing his shoulder absently. He turned to Max, and she suddenly seemed uneasy. It made him wonder what the other X5 had said to her. "Anything wrong?" he asked casually, hoping he didn't sound suspicious. He remembered the last time he had questioned a conversation between Max and another X5; he had almost died that night.

Max downed the last of her beer in two long swallows, then smacked the glass back down on the table. She stared into Logan's eyes and thought about Flynn's words: _you don't look at him the way he looks at you_.

"Not a thing," she said, and willed it to be the truth.

* * *

Max watched the numbers above her rise as the elevator made its way up to Logan's floor. As she waited, her mind drifted, but it didn't drift toward Logan, as it should have. Even though they couldn't touch, for all intents and purposes, she was having an exclusive relationship with the man.

It had been one year. One year since she had come home to Seattle. Exactly one year, eleven days, and about six hours since Alec had disappeared from her life.

But who was counting?

As soon as the elevator doors opened, Max's demeanor unconsciously shifted. Much like Alec had always done, she learned to pull on an "always all right" persona when she was around other people. She had been doing it so long now she had even fooled herself into thinking it was true.

As soon as Max walked into Logan's place, she knew something was up. She could hear Logan talking excitedly to someone about arranging some sort of tests, and when he came into view, she saw he was pacing back and forth as he spoke into the phone. As soon as he saw her, he froze, and a huge smile lit his face.

"Oh, hey, she's here. I want to tell her about this right away. I'll call you back to arrange everything. Thanks, Sam."

Max stood across the room, suddenly wary for some reason. She'd heard the word _tests_, and that was never a word that any Manticore alum liked to hear. "Was that Sam as in Sam Carr?" she asked.

"Yeah. I was just about to call you." Logan rushed toward Max, all excitement and complete disregard for the fact that she could kill him with a touch.

"Hey! Are you crazy!" Max cried out, back pedaling and holding her hands up to ward him off.

Logan stopped abruptly, and his brows furrowed for a moment at the necessity of the distance, but then it was quickly forgotten and the smile was back. "No, I'm not crazy. Not at all. I'm just..." He couldn't seemed to describe what he was feeling, but whatever it was, he looked like he was about to burst. "Come on, you have to see this," he blurted out, then made waving motions with his hands to try to get Max to come along.

Max drew back her head in suspicion, but began to follow Logan. "All right," she said, and the words were careful and drawn out, as if she were dealing with an unstable person.

"Over here," Logan said, practically bouncing as he made his way further into the apartment. He directed Max over to his desk, where a small, open package sat in the center.

"It's a box," Max said, deadpan.

Logan rolled his eyes and made a little frustrated noise. "Yes, I know it's a box. Look inside it," he said, gesturing toward the box with a hand.

Max approached the box slowly, eyeing Logan as she did. She'd never really seen him like this before. She wondered what could make him act this way.

The box appeared fairly normal on the outside--standard cardboard and packing tape. She didn't see any stamps or stickers to indicate any sort of delivery service. She peered over the edge of the box. Inside was a piece of paper attached to a rectangular metal container, which was resting amid a mound of packing peanuts. Max reached for the item inside, slowly pulling it out of the box.

She looked at the paper on top. The first line contained a weird name with a number beside it--presumably a description of the contents--but that wasn't really what interested Max. What had her eyes going wide was the one word below appended to the end of that line… _antivirus_.

At the bottom of the page, written in precise block letters that gave no clue as to the writer's identity, were three words.

TO MAKE AMENDS.

Max lifted the lid of the metal container, as Logan watched over her shoulder. Inside was a vial, nested in a foam cutout to protect it. She pulled the vial from the box and held it up to the light, mouth dropping open slightly as she stared at the clear liquid inside.

"It's the cure," Logan said quietly, his voice heavy with emotion.

Those three words, and everything they implied, hit Max like a physical blow. If they were true, then she and Logan would be able to touch. Kiss. Make love.

Max grabbed the edge of the desk with her free hand, feeling her knees weaken. Logan didn't really seem to notice; he was too caught up in the moment.

"I figure one of the Manticore doctors must have developed a guilty conscience," Logan said as he began pacing again, gesturing with his hands as he talked. "Maybe even the doctor who designed the virus in the first place. Who else would know about it? It's not like it's common knowledge."

"Where did you get it?" Max managed to get out around the lump in her throat.

"It was sitting inside of my car, inside the garage. Someone broke in and put it there. I figure whoever's responsible probably paid someone to deliver it."

Max sat the metal box with the supposed cure down on Logan's desk. She upended the package, sending Styrofoam peanuts spilling all over his desk. She sorted through the debris, looking for some other clue as to the package's origin.

"I called Sam Carr right away," Logan continued, walking over to the window to look out at the night sky, not paying attention to Max's messy inspection of the package. "We need to have it tested, to make sure that it really is a cure for the virus. I wouldn't put it past someone to use this as a way to take either one of us out. "

"Yeah, I thought of that too," Max replied, not pausing in her search for clues. Having examined the contents without success, she began to scrutinize the box itself.

"Sam will need blood samples from both of us, of course. We should see to that as soon as possible. If it is the cure…" Logan trailed off, looking at Max expectantly. He began to wonder why she wasn't as excited about this as he was.

Max sensed Logan's stare and raised her head to look at him. She saw the look on his face, and could see the question in his eyes. "Look, there's no point in getting' all worked up until we know it can cure this bitch. I'm not gonna get my hopes up for no reason. I mean, this could be a sick joke or something."

Logan relaxed visibly at Max's explanation. "You're right. I'm sorry. It's just been so long…"

"I know." Max closed her eyes and nodded. _So long_. So long since she had let another man touch her. Memories of the last time she had been touched came unbidden into her mind, and she pushed them away.

Max opened her eyes, and stared down once more at the box she held in her hands. It had tipped forward, so the bottom of the box was facing up. She was about to toss the box back onto the desk when her fingers convulsively tightened and her eyes widened.

Her focus zoomed in to one corner on the bottom of the box. It was something that Logan had overlooked, but stood out to her like a neon sign. Delicate black lines, thick and thin, hand-drawn on the bottom of the package. Only someone with transgenic eyesight could've seen that it wasn't original to the box. She knew those lines as well as she knew the back of her own hand.

It was a barcode.

Alec's.

* * *

A/N: As it is a complete miracle that I am posting something in under three weeks, I feel completely justified in leaving you with this cliffhanger. 


	21. Love and Hate

Gone

By Inzane

Disclaimer: I intend no infringement on the show Dark Angel.

Summary: How much abuse can a guy take before he snaps? Events in Hello, Goodbye take a different turn. AU from that point.

A/N: Forgive the delay, but as I was writing this chapter, I found myself being attacked by Supernatural plot bunnies. Vicious little suckers. They just wouldn't let up until I worked on a plot outline for a Supernatural fic. I've got the whole thing plotted now, so hopefully they will leave me alone until I finish Gone.

My thanks to those of you who were kind enough to let me know you would hang in there until the very end. I appreciate the trust, especially considering my unrepentantly evil ways.

The end _is _coming... soon, if extra chapters will quit sneaking in here.

* * *

Chapter 21: Love and Hate

_Previously_

Max opened her eyes, and stared down once more at the box she held in her hands. It had tipped forward, so the bottom of the box was facing up. She was about to toss the box back onto the desk when her fingers convulsively tightened and her eyes widened.

Her focus zoomed in to one corner on the bottom of the box. It was something that Logan had overlooked, but stood out to her like a neon sign. Delicate black lines, thick and thin, hand-drawn on the bottom of the package. Only someone with transgenic eyesight could've seen that it wasn't original to the box. She knew those lines as well as she knew the back of her own hand.

It was a barcode.

Alec's.

* * *

The cardboard began to buckle under the pressure of Max's grip. Everything else around her disappeared until all she could see was the lines of Alec's barcode on the bottom of the box.

Max felt as though her brain had exploded, sending her thoughts flying in a thousand directions at once, only to pull back and coalesce into one coherent thought.

Alec was _alive_.

Relief flowed through her. She hadn't realized just how much she'd feared the opposite had been true until now. Alec was alive, and well enough to hunt down the cure that had eluded Logan for almost two years.

"How long have you had this?" she heard an unsteady voice say, then realized belatedly that it was her own.

Logan's eyes widened at the tone of Max's voice; she sounded so unlike herself. He knew how she felt. This moment had been a long time in coming. When he'd first discovered what was inside the box, he'd been a little overcome himself. "I found it about a half an hour ago. I was just about to call you when you showed up."

"But how long has it been here?" Max said, suddenly impatient as a sense of urgency gripped her. _He would've dropped it off himself. I know it. He wouldn't've trusted anyone else to do it. God, Alec was here. He was right here, in Seattle. He could still be here. _She jerked her head up to meet Logan's gaze. "When was the last time you drove your car?"

Logan's brows furrowed in thought. "Hmmm… I'm not sure, really. I've been tied up lately working on installing some new equipment on my computer. I kind of lose track of time when I've got computer parts everywhere."

She felt the box slip from her hands and fall to the floor as she advanced on Logan. Before she realized what she was doing, she grabbed his upper arm, which was fortunately protected by the long sleeve of his shirt. "Dammit, this is important!" Max snapped. "Think!"

Only when she saw Logan staring in alarm at the hand gripping his arm did she realize what she had done. Max blanched and let go abruptly. She took a step back from him, then another. She folded her arms across her chest, tucking her hands in to hide the offending appendages.

"Shit. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... I'm kinda hyped right now." Max said hurriedly. Her mind raced, trying to think of an explanation for her sudden outburst. She couldn't tell him the truth. She knew he would have a million questions, and she didn't have time to explain. She had to look for Alec--_now, goddammit, now_. "We really need to know how this got here. I'm not just gonna trust something like this blindly."

"Sam can…" Logan began, but Max cut him off.

"I know, and that's great, you can work on gettin' those tests set up." She began to pace, fighting the urge to shake the information out of him. Her words came out fast and clipped. "But in the meantime, I wanna try to track down how it got here, and the longer we stand here talkin' the harder it's gonna be. Now I need you to think. We need to pin down when this package showed up. When was the last time you were in your car?"

Logan was puzzled by Max's intensity--she was practically vibrating with it. He'd expected she would be excited by the prospect of finally curing the virus, but this didn't seem like excitement. She seemed almost frantic. For the first time since she'd been infected with the virus, she'd forgotten herself and touched him. It worried him, since Max was always careful to a fault when it came to that sort of thing. Logan wasn't sure what was going on with her, but he figured he'd better come up with answer for her, quick, before she forgot herself again and touched him in a place that wasn't protected by cloth.

He looked down, staring at the floor as he replayed the past couple of days in his mind. "Well, I've been working on the install for two days now. It's sensitive work. The new module I'm adding should make it impossible for even the federal government to track my cable hacks. I can increase my broadcast time and…"

Max made a frustrated noise in the back of her throat that sounded very close to a growl. "Can we get to the point, here? Have you been outside this apartment in the past two days? Go out for takeout? Take a drive to clear your head? Anything?"

Logan paused for a moment as he mentally flipped through events, then shook his head. "No. I've had stuff delivered. I don't like to interrupt when I'm working on sensitive equipment. Lose my focus."

"So when was the last time you went out?" Max asked, and her voice was tightly controlled. Logan could tell she was coming to the end of her patience.

Logan's eyes unfocused again as he went back further in his mind, then snapped back as it hit him. "Two and a half days ago. Around ten in the morning. I picked up a few extra parts I needed to install the new module I'm working on."

"Damn," Max muttered. Too long. It was too long. Alec could've left the package two nights ago and split. Max was already halfway out the door when Logan's voice stopped her.

"Max, wait!"

Max halted and turned, an exasperated "What?" exploding from her lips.

_I have to go. I have to look for him. Maybe it's not too late._

"Where are you going?" Logan asked, worried and confused.

Over the past couple of months, he and Max had become pretty close. She'd been receptive to deepening their relationship. There'd been no excuses to skip out on dinner, no broken dates, no unreturned phone calls. Now, all of the sudden, she was back to sending mixed signals. On top of that, they finally catch a break and receive what was most likely the cure to the virus that had plagued their relationship for so long, and she was leaving?

Max stifled her urge to scream. This had been exactly what she'd been afraid of… Logan and his damn endless questions. He really was a bit of a control freak. "I'm gonna go down to the garage and see if I can pick up some clues as to how that thing got here, aiight? Clues which are getting' colder by the fuckin' minute, so if you don't mind, I'd like to get to it."

With that, Max spun and blurred out of the room, forestalling any further questions from Logan. He was left standing in stunned silence, wondering what the hell was going on.

* * *

She only spent a few minutes in the garage. She wasn't really looking for clues. She knew that Alec wouldn't have left any clues to his whereabouts if he didn't want to be found. And she was terribly afraid that he didn't want to be found. Why else would he have left the box in Logan's car? She was afraid that even the barcode may have been an afterthought, just a little note to let her know the package came from someone she could trust.

He didn't want to see her, and that fact hurt almost as bad as the moment he'd left her standing alone in that alley in California.

_Well, fuck that!_ Max thought, climbing onto her motorcycle and gunning the engine. She wouldn't give him a choice. If Alec was still in Seattle, she would find him.

* * *

After Max had left, Logan had stared at the spot where she had just been for a full minute. He couldn't seem to process what had happened. He knew Max wasn't really the trusting sort, but to just go running off like that... there had to be a reason, and more than the excuse Max had given him.

Logan hung his head, reaching up to massage the suddenly tense muscles in his neck. And to think that the evening had started out so well.

It was then that he noticed the box on the floor.

Logan's eyes narrowed. The box had fallen with the bottom facing up. There, in the upper right-hand corner, was something he hadn't noticed before. It looked like... a barcode.

The sight of it started a mental battle inside his head. Part of him thought that it didn't mean anything; it was just a barcode on the bottom of a box. No big deal, right? But the part of him that believed that was brutally slaughtered by the suspicion that now gripped him. The way Max was acting... the last time he'd seen her act like that, it had been because of him. _Alec_.

_No_, Logan thought, making a last-ditch effort at denial. _It can't be. Alec's gone, been gone for a year. We put all of that behind us. _But that last-ditch effort didn't stop him from picking up the box and carrying it over to his desk.

With a couple clicks of his mouse, he had the file open--Alec's file. He'd gathered quite a mass of information on the transgenic while searching for him at Max's request, the first time he'd disappeared from Seattle. A lot of it was straight from the old Manticore files. Some of it had been quite disturbing. The things Manticore had made him do... Logan almost felt sympathy for the man. But he didn't care about that information now. He was looking for one thing in particular. He opened the file containing a copy of Manticore's dossier on X5-494.

His heart sank. He held the box up to the computer screen for better comparison, but there was no mistaking it. It was Alec's barcode.

Logan let the box drop on the desk and collapsed back into his chair. He was undone by what the existence of that barcode meant.

Alec had found them the cure. Alec, the guy he had always openly disliked and secretly hated, and Logan was sure those feelings had been reciprocated. Alec, the screw up. Alec, who he'd seen snap a man's neck without a hint of remorse. Why would _Alec _send them the cure? Hell, the last time he'd seen Alec, he'd shot him in the leg. Logan didn't want it to make sense.

But it did make sense. The answer was obvious. He'd suspected it before Alec had disappeared, feared it when Max was alone with him in California, but now he knew for sure.

Alec was in love with Max, even if the guy didn't want to admit it. The X5 would do anything for her, much as he had in the weeks before he'd disappeared, allowing Max to drag him on Eyes Only missions that Logan knew Alec hadn't really wanted to get involved in.

Logan glanced at the cure, sitting--now, not so innocently--on his desk. For some reason, Alec thought that _this_ was the thing that would make Max happy.

Logan pulled off his glasses and tossed them carelessly onto his desk, then ran a hand over his face. He remembered how Max's whole demeanor had changed when she'd glanced at the bottom of the box. She didn't need to find out more information on how the package had gotten here--she already _knew_.

Max wasn't looking for clues. She was looking for Alec.

Logan bent forward and placed his head in his hands. Max had been holding back, all this time. The signs were there, but he'd ignored them, because he hadn't wanted to see. He'd allowed the intensity of his own emotions to mask Max's half-hearted ones.

What the hell would he do if she found Alec? The thought of living his life without Max was frightening. He'd done it twice before: first, when she'd been recaptured by Manticore and he'd thought she was dead, and again when she'd stayed in California to try to save Alec's soul. He hadn't handled it well either time. He'd buried himself in his work, virtually _becoming_ his work. That was no way to live.

God, what the hell would he do if she _didn't _find him? If Max came back to him, could he just go on, pretending that nothing had happened and that he was none the wiser? Could he live with the fact that he was her second choice, and that the only reason Max was with him was that Alec was gone? Could he love a woman whose heart belonged to someone else?

Logan laughed bitterly, and it was tinged with self loathing. He almost wished that Max _would_ find Alec, because then he wouldn't have to make that choice.

* * *

Max spent hours looking for Alec. She went to every place she thought he might possibly be, and when that didn't work out, she began to check places at random. Bars, strip clubs, the docks, hotels, apartment buildings…anywhere that might hold some sign of his passing. But there was nothing, not even a hint of him. As the moon made its way across the night sky, her search became more frantic in response to her dying hopes. Wherever she went, people got out of her way, as if they sensed that she was a woman on the edge.

In the end, she went to Terminal City, her last bastion of hope. He might not want to see her, but he could've stopped by to see Joshua. It was a slim hope, because she knew that Joshua would have had someone get in touch with her if Alec had shown up, but it was all she had left.

Max blew through the buildings of TC like a hurricane, searching for Joshua or Alec. She radiated tension, so much that it surrounded her in an almost palpable bubble. The denizens of the transgenic city could sense it, and there was often a subtle shift as she passed--a slight change in stance and an immediate wariness--as they instinctively recognized a threat.

Max had no time for them. She needed to find Joshua. If she found him, then she could end this crazy search that was tearing her apart from the inside. If she found Joshua, alone, then she would know for sure. She couldn't stop looking until she knew for sure.

Max blindly blasted through the double doors to the building that had been designated as TC's Mess Hall, and she hardly registered the grunt of pain and muffled thud until she heard someone call her name. Max's head whipped around to find Flynn half-sitting, half-lying in the floor, hand gingerly touching his now bloody nose.

"Flynn," she said after a moment, her brain so nerve-wracked that she had a hard time pulling the name that went with the face. "Sorry," she added as an afterthought.

Flynn watched, puzzled, as Max turned her head to scan the room. She apparently didn't find what she was looking for--the late night poker game Flynn had just dropped out of obviously not interesting her. She frowned and spun on her heel, leaving Flynn lying on the floor... not _quite_ in a pool of his own blood, but there _was _blood, dammit. And though his nose wasn't broken, it frickin' hurt! It at least earned a "hey, you okay?" or a hand up or somethin'.

Max hadn't blown him off like that in a long time. Something must be wrong. He scrambled to his feet and ran to catch up with her.

"Hey, Max, slow down!" he called out, slowing to a jog as he caught up with her. Max didn't stop, but continued to walk purposefully down the alley, eyes focused straight ahead of her. He managed to catch a glimpse of those eyes, and they seemed a bit shinier than usual, as if she was holding back tears.

Shit. He hated dealing with tears.

"Max, stop," Flynn said firmly, grabbing her arm to bring her to a halt. Max halted, but she yanked her arm roughly out of his grasp and whirled on him, causing him to take an involuntary step backwards.

"Don't touch me," Max snapped. Her voice had a high, desperate quality that made Flynn even more nervous.

Flynn raised his hands in surrender, eyebrows disappearing under shaggy blonde bangs. "Okay. Okay. Sorry."

They stood for a moment, staring each other down, Max breathing heavily as Flynn fought his instincts. Whatever vibe Max was putting out, it made his body want to respond to her as if she was a threat. He lowered his arms and shoved his hands into his pockets to make sure he didn't take a swing at her. "What's going on?" he asked warily.

At first, he didn't think she was going to answer him. She wouldn't look him in the eye, and it seemed like she was about to bolt. But all of the sudden, her eyes snapped to his, and it was like he'd gone back in time. It was the look her eyes had held the day he'd met her... grief, loss, anguish.

"You seen Joshua?" Max asked, trying for casual but failing miserably.

"Not around," Flynn replied, eyes narrowed as he stared at Max, trying to figure out what was up. "He's out prowlin' the tunnels with Mole. Needed to stretch their legs or somethin'. Why?"

Max ignored Flynn's question, instead asking one of her own. "And no one else was asking around about him?"

"No," Flynn shot back, shifting impatiently. "What's going on, Max?"

Max's jaw clenched, and her lips became a hard line. "Nothing," she said brusquely, turning to walk away.

"Oh, no you don't," Flynn said, blurring around her to block her path. He did not make the mistake of laying hands on her again. "I'm not letting you outta my sight until you tell me what's bugging you. "

Max went to move around him, but Flynn countered and blocked her path once more. She moved again, he blocked again. "I can keep doing this all night," he said without a hint of his usual humor.

Max stilled and hung her head, placing her hands on her hips. The only way she was going to get by Flynn was to go through him, and, appealing as that thought was at the moment, she had enough control left to remember that Flynn was her friend.

"Why aren't you with Ari?" Max asked, still looking at the ground. She didn't quite trust that her eyes wouldn't give her away.

"She's doing the girls' night out thing with Cece, and don't change the subject."

Max heaved a frustrated sigh. She took a couple of steps over to the wall of the alley and then leaned her back against it. She slid down the wall until she was sitting on the ground. She let her head fall back, looking up at Flynn.

"We have the cure," she said in a tired voice.

Flynn's jaw dropped. He hadn't expected that one. "Cure as in the nasty, Logan-killing virus type cure?"

A slight nod was Max's only response. "Wow," Flynn said, reaching up to scratch his head, not really sure how he should respond. Max was not really acting like this was a good thing.

"He left it. In Logan's car."

"Who left it?" Flynn asked. Max didn't answer, just stared at him with a bleak look in her eyes. Flynn was silent as it took a moment for his brain to process that look, but then it clicked. "Alec?" he asked, incredulous. He didn't see how it was possible, but Flynn didn't know of anyone else who could put that look in Max's eyes. "You sure?"

Max gave a bitter laugh, then leaned forward and let her head rest on her bent knees.

"Shit," Flynn said, going over to sit down against the wall next to Max. "He was here? In Seattle?"

"_Was _being the operative word," Max said wryly.

"Hey, you don't know that. He could still be around. Could be he's laying low until he figures out what to say to you."

Max turned her head to look at him, and he could see the defeat in her eyes. "No. If he was still here, I would've found him by now. He's in the wind."

"I could help you look…" Flynn said in a small, almost apologetic tone.

Max shook her head. "You and I both know that you can't find a transgenic that doesn't want to be found. He's long gone."

Flynn made several false starts before placing a hand on Max's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Max."

Max's face hardened at the pity Flynn couldn't disguise in his voice. "Don't be," she said tersely, shrugging off his hand. The sadness that had been on the verge of drowning her dissipated, replaced by a slow, burning anger that threatened to become a raging inferno. She didn't want to be around anyone when that happened.

Max shoved herself to her feet and away from the wall in one smooth motion that had Flynn scrambling to catch up. But as soon as he made it to his feet, Max's planted a hand in his chest and pinned him against the wall. "Look, I don't need your pity, and I don't need a shoulder to cry on. I just want to be alone, all right? Just leave me alone." Then the hand was gone, as she took off in a blur of motion.

Flynn watched her go, but he did not follow. He knew better. Max would probably hurt him if he followed. It wasn't that he couldn't take it--he would've let Max take her frustrations out on him if he thought it would've helped. He just wanted to spare her the guilt he knew she would feel after. Still, his heart ached for her. He knew that Max had never really gotten over Alec, and now this happened, reopening all the old wounds? It just wasn't right.

Flynn's face darkened. How could Alec do that to her? Of all the things the guy could've done, leaving them cure--thereby forcing Max's hand with the whole Logan situation--was one of the worst. And, in Flynn's opinion, a completely chickenshit thing to do.

Flynn decided that if he ever did run into Alec, he would give the transgenic a piece of his mind. Quite possibly followed by a swift kick in the ass.

* * *

Hours after the sun had set, Alec quietly slipped over the border into Mexico, almost appalled by how easy it was. He'd actually been hoping they would've at least spotted him and given chase. It might've distracted him from everything that was currently weighing down his brain.

He walked for a while, alone with thoughts as dark as the night around him. He'd been so convinced that he had to go back to the beginning of Alec, to make up for his mistakes, make things right. And, in his mind, that had meant finding the cure.

It pissed him off, how quickly he'd found it. Three months. Three months was all it took to not only track down some of the scientists responsible for the nastier things that came out of Manticore, but also to convince them to recreate the cure. Sure, it had been his sole purpose for three months, and he'd been a little overzealous with the convincing, but _still_. Logan had been looking for fucking ever, and he_, Alec_, had managed to find it in three months? If Logan hadn't been such a narrow-minded, self-important, hero-complexing idiot... like if it couldn't be found in cyberspace, it didn't exist. For a guy who was supposedly head over heels for Max, had almost been killed by her touch, he hadn't really put out a whole lot of effort. Probably too busy with his Eyes Only shit. Stupid, stupid man.

Now they had the cure. Max could be with Logan, if that was what she still wanted. She had to still want that, right? She and Logan were like the classic star-crossed lovers of some great romance. This was the way things were supposed to be.

Alec had done what he'd had to. He'd given Max back the choice he'd helped to take away so long ago. He gave her a chance for a happy ending. He'd made amends.

Then why did he feel so torn inside?

Ever since he dropped off the cure and left, something had been eating away at him. It was a strange feeling. He was still wary of feelings. After having shut them down for so long, he still had a hard time dealing.

He chalked it up to guilt. He knew he shouldn't have handled it the way he had. He had intended to talk to Max, hand her the cure in person, but he'd chickened out. He'd been waiting for the right time to confront her, following her after she got off work at Jam Pony. She hadn't picked up that he was tailing her--he had his extra years of training at Manticore to thank for that.

He'd stopped dead in his tracks when she entered Fogel Tower, all good intentions derailing. Of course she was going to see Logan. Max would've gotten over the thing she'd thought she'd had for him long ago. She was in love with _Logan_. Wasn't that why he'd gone and found them the cure in the first place? _Right_, he'd told himself._ So just march on up there, wish them well, and hand them the cure_.

But he couldn't. He just couldn't face her, with Logan. He didn't really think about the why of it. He just couldn't do it.

So he'd come up with the idea of leaving it for Logan to find. He waited until the next night, then had broken into Logan's car and left it on the seat. He figured by the time Logan found it, he could be long gone. He needed to move on. Max had a life here, and he would not mess that up for her. Not again.

The barcode had been a last minute compulsion on his part. He told himself it was because he wanted to let her know that she could trust what he'd found for them. But it was a lie. He'd always been good at lying, even to himself.

What he really wanted was for Max to know that he was out there somewhere, alive and whole again. That he'd been strong enough to make it on his own.

Somewhere, in a little tiny corner of his bruised and battered heart, he held on to the small, secret hope that she'd come find him.

That was all behind him, now. He knew he should feel relieved. But as he walked under the dark Mexican sky, what he felt was a twinge of doubt. He couldn't stop thinking about what he had given Max, and what it meant for Max and Logan now that they had the cure.

A memory popped into his head, so clear and potent that he slowed to a stop. It wasn't the memory of the crazy, passionate lovemaking that he'd cut short with his rooftop confession, though that had been on his mind a bit more than usual of late. No, it was the moment that directly preceded it, when Max had kissed him for the first time.

He remembered with perfect clarity how he'd felt at that moment. He'd been coming apart at the seams, and then Max's lips had touched his, and everything had stopped. For a moment, the voice, the things he had done, the memories he'd buried, _everything_ just disappeared. There was nothing but her, and that one, perfect kiss. And now Logan could…

Alec shook his head to clear it. There was no point in thinking about that now. Max had moved on with her life. It was time he moved on with his.

As every step took him further and further away from the object of his thoughts, he began to wonder if he had done the right thing.

* * *

Max paced angrily inside the Space Needle. She stayed inside, because she was afraid that she just might fall off if she went up top. Her anger had turned into a blind rage.

"_Sonofabitch!_" she yelled, and kicked viciously at an old chair, one of the few pieces of junk that still remained intact after her rampage. She was in a destructive mood, and instead of going somewhere that somebody might end up getting hurt, she'd come here to the Space Needle and proceeded to vent her emotions, transgenic-style. She picked what remained of the now broken chair and screamed a cry of rage as she flung it at the opposite wall. It shattered on the force of impact, breaking into unidentifiable bits.

Her rage spent, Max stood panting in the center of the room, epicenter to the destruction around her. As she surveyed the damage she had done, it almost seemed like another person had done it, like she had stepped outside of herself and watched as some strange force took her over and ripped the room to shreds.

Max tried to take a slow breath to calm herself, but ended up gritting her teeth when it hitched in her chest. _No tears. Not this time_, she told herself. She grabbed onto her anger and held tight, because the alternative was not acceptable.

"You asshole," she whispered harshly as she sank to her knees in the middle of chaos. "Motherfucking _asshole_."

She wished he hadn't put his barcode on that goddamn box. It would've been better not knowing. It was so much worse to know that he could just drop of the cure and leave. That he could come that close and still not want to see her.

_To make amends_, the note had said. There was such finality in those words. Those words signified paying off old debts, tying up loose ends. Bringing closure to their disastrous non-relationship.

It was over. All this time, she had never accepted that simple fact, but now she knew for sure. He didn't want her. _Alec_--alive and well, but still, he didn't want her.

He was telling her to move on.

Max felt her simmering anger rise once more to the boiling point. What the hell had she been doing, waiting around for him all this time? Letting life pass her by as she secretly hoped that someday he'd come riding to her rescue. She'd kept telling herself that she had moved on, but she hadn't. Original Cindy and Flynn had warned her, but she had ignored them. Deny, deny, deny: that had been her motto. God, how fucking pathetic could you get?

Max surged to her feet and walked purposely through the destruction, making her way out onto the top of the Space Needle.

She stopped a mere foot away from the edge, tempting fate and the whipping winds to rip her from her perch. Her dark locks flew wildly as she looked out over the cityscape below. Her hands were balled into tight fists at her sides.

"You want me to move on?" Max screamed out into the night, knowing that Alec would never hear her but just needing to get it out. "_Live again_?" she continued, mocking the words of the note Alec had left her long ago. "Is that what you want?! _Is it?!_"

Max's chest heaved with emotion as she stared out the Seattle skyline, her own words echoing in her mind.

The city had never seemed so silent.

Max spun in a tight circle and moved quickly back inside. She didn't run, but moved steadily, with newfound purpose. As she headed down the Space Needle, shoulders squared and eyes full of fire, she growled out that purpose, her words reverberating against the walls around her.

"Fine then. I'll move the fuck on."

* * *

Logan's head shot up as Max stormed into the room. He'd been sitting--more like slouching--in his desk chair for hours, unable to sleep, steadily drumming his fingers against the desk top while staring at the floor. He must've gone through a thousand different scenarios of what he would do if Max walked back in his door, and had vetoed every single one. Now he had no more time to think, because Max was standing across from him, eyes blazing, looking like some mythical warrior-goddess on the eve of combat.

"Hey," he said hoarsely, rising to his feet. He cleared his throat nervously, and all of the sudden he didn't know what to do with his hands. He stuffed them into his pockets. "Find anything?" he asked, really meaning _Find __**Him**_

"No," Max replied succinctly, closing the subject. She stared at him for a moment, then moved swiftly over to the desk to pick up the metal container holding the cure. "I want to test it," she said, her words leaving no room for argument.

_She didn't find him_, Logan thought. Instead of relief, Logan found his muscles tensing even further._ Oh, hell, what should I do? What should I do?_

He stalled.

"I spoke to Sam about that. He said he could see us tomorrow evening."

"No," Max snapped out again, and never had her words held so much bite. "Now."

Logan frowned, her tone making him unconsciously take a step back. He looked down at his watch, and his eyebrows shot up. He hadn't realized the time. "It's after 3:00 in the morning, Max. You can't expect Sam to..."

"I don't expect Sam to," Max interrupted. Her anger rode still, barely contained, under the surface, and it was pushing her to action. "We can take it to TC. My people can test it."

Max watched a look of derision cross Logan's face before he quickly schooled his countenance to concern. "Max, I really don't think that anyone at Terminal City is quite qualified..." he began, but Max cut him off again.

"Why? You think just because we were designed by man instead of God that were not as good as you? That we're not as smart as you?"

Logan held up his hands in surrender. He had no idea how they had suddenly come to the _Us versus Them _debate, and he could clearly tell that Max had lumped him in with _Them_. "Look, that's not what I'm saying. It's just..." He trailed off, searching desperately for a way to salvage the conversation. "...do you even have the equipment to test this kind of thing?"

Max's lips twisted in a half-smile, half grimace. "You'd be surprised at what we have." With that, she turned, the metal container still in her hand, and headed for the elevator. Halfway there, she stopped and turned her head back towards Logan, who hadn't moved. "You comin'?"

Logan stood stock still, Max's simple question having so many not-so-simple implications on his life. Could he accept the fact that if Alec had still been in Seattle, Max would not be here with him now? Or should he end it, and not risk the heartache that may come?

As he stared at her perfect profile, he came to a conclusion. You couldn't choose who you loved; your heart chose for you. He could no more stop loving Max then he could make his heart stop beating.

"Yeah," Logan replied quietly, grabbing his jacket as he chose to follow wherever she would lead.

* * *

The cure was legit. One of Terminal City's medically talented transgenics--who fortunately was up due to a good dose of shark DNA in her system--tested their blood samples against the supposed cure three times, and each time, it was successful.

Max held out her arm to the med tech, pulling up her sleeve. "Do it," she said firmly.

Logan blanched at this. "Max, are you sure? Don't you think we should get verification from an outside source before we take this step?"

"No. I want this over with. Besides, if it doesn't work, we have plenty of transgenics here that can donate a little blood to fix you up, like last time. Just do it," she told the tech again, and this time the transgenic obeyed. "How long will it take?" she asked as she watched the clear liquid entered her veins.

"With transgenic metabolism, about fifteen. I'd wait a half hour to be sure."

"Got it." Max hopped down from the table she had been sitting on, then turned to Logan. "Now we wait."

* * *

Thirty minutes of awkward, forced conversation later, Max stood with her bare hand hovering over Logan's.

"You ready?" she said with a hint of nervousness. Despite her frantic urge to get this done, she had no desire to hurt him.

Logan swallowed hard, then nodded. "As I'll ever be."

"Okay," Max breathed, and slowly lowered her hand until it touched Logan's.

She didn't know what she was expecting. A jolt, perhaps? A tingle, even? The only thing she felt was the feel of Logan's smooth, un-callused hand against her own. No fire, no burn... just the feel of his slightly cooler skin against hers.

She looked up into his face, watching for any hint of a negative reaction. After two full minutes, she felt the tension loosen from her chest, and the long-standing weight that Renfro had placed on her shoulders so long ago finally lifted. After more than two years of constant vigilance, she could finally stand down.

"I can't kill you," Max whispered in awe.

Logan smiled down at her, his eyes bright behind his glasses. "Well, not by accident, anyway."

Max smirked at this. "Ha ha. Let's get you outta here before the toxins start hittin' ya."

They left Terminal City, hand in hand. Later, when Logan stopped in front of Max's apartment building to drop her off, Max raised her eyebrows in a silent question.

"Look," Logan said, bowing his head, "I don't wanna rush this, okay? Just because we can touch now doesn't mean we have to rush things." Max didn't reply, just stared at him like her eyes would bore right through him. He cleared his throat, then quietly added, "I want you to be sure."

"I _am _sure, Logan," Max said, placing her hand on the back of Logan's neck. She didn't want to think about this. She just wanted to get it done. Move the fuck on. Right now, before she had second thoughts.

Logan gently peeled Max's hand away. "Maybe_ I_ want to be sure," he told her, staring back at her with those soulful blue eyes that he hid behind glasses.

Max clenched her teeth. Logan wasn't cooperating. Why couldn't he fucking cooperate? What kind of man turned down sex? _A stupid man_, she thought, but another part of her countered with the thought, _A good man_.

Max sighed. Looks like they'd be playing by Logan's rules from this point on. "I can live with that," she said softly, nodding. Then she opened the car door and stepped out. She paused, hand on the open door, and looked back at him. "See you tomorrow?" she asked. "Dinner?"

Logan smiled crookedly. "It's a date."

* * *

It was the first of many, in the new, post-cure world. They took it slow. This irritated Max at first, but after her initial anger had burned off, she found she was grateful for Logan's chivalry. She'd been rushing headlong into something that she had never taken casually in her life--_well, except during her heat-induced escapades, but those didn't count_--and if Logan hadn't put on the brakes, she would've risked destroying what they had.

But what did they have, really? Sometimes Max wondered. It wasn't anything like what she'd felt for Alec. What she'd felt for him had been a consuming fire. It had filled her up until she thought she would explode, had torn her down when she knew it was lost. That had been love. How could what she felt for Logan be love if it paled in comparison?

But still, she stayed. She kept telling herself that she needed to give this thing between her and Logan a chance, to give their relationship time to grow into something more. She threw herself whole-heartedly into giving them that chance.

One day, she hoped she might love Logan as much as he loved her. She tried not to feel guilty that today wasn't that day.

* * *

Two months after the virus had been cured, two months of ever-so-gradually increasing intimacy between them, Logan proposed that they take the next step.

They were in Logan's apartment, having dinner as they usually did, though this time they were dining on prime rib--which Max had provided via a somewhat dubious source--because she was sick to death of pasta. Logan had cracked open a bottle of a very nice vintage of pre-pulse wine, and some high-brow, fancy instrumental music was playing softly in the background.

The candles were lit. The mood was set. And Max hated that it felt like just another day to her. She continually reminded herself that she was supposed to be enjoying this.

They were almost through with the main course when Logan reached across the table and took her hand in his. "Max," he said hesitantly, rubbing his thumb softly over the top of her hand. "I was wondering..." He trailed of, suddenly unable to meet her eyes, and she thought she detected a slight increase in his heartbeat.

"What is it?" she asked, feeling her own heartbeat speed up.

"I..." he began again, then had to pause to clear his throat. "I was hoping to arrange a special evening for us."

Max's heart stuttered in her chest. She covered her nerves with a crooked smile. "Don't you know anything, Logan? You're supposed to tell me every night with me is special."

Logan grinned at this, thankful that Max could break through his tension. "Of course it is. I guess I was hoping to arrange something _extra_ special. I thought... well, that is... I've reserved a suite for us at the Fairmont this weekend. Friday and Saturday, actually." Logan swallowed hard, and hoped that Max wouldn't think he was being presumptuous. His next words came out in a rush. "If you don't want to, just say the word and I'll cancel it right away."

Max raised her eyebrows at him. "Fairmont, huh? Pretty swanky."

"Yeah." Logan paused, holding his breath for a moment, then let it our slow. "If you're not ready for this, I'll understand."

Max stared down at her plate. _Don't do it_, her mind whispered, but when she looked up into Logan's blue eyes, she found herself confidently telling him, "I'll meet you there."

* * *

"Okay, boo, we been round this before, an Original Cindy been keepin' her mouth shut of late when it come to you an Logan--figured you come to your senses eventually. Since it's clear that's not the case, it high time homegirl lay it out for you straight."

Original Cindy stood in the door to Max's bedroom, arms crossed and a no-nonsense look on her face. The reason OC was doing double-duty as a human roadblock was currently packing a bag for a little weekend getaway. A getaway that her supposed best friend had neglected to tell her about--and hadn't _that_ fuckin' hurt--until said friend had popped out of the bathroom looking like she'd stepped out of the pages of some magazine.

The dress was a velvety blood red that trailed to the floor, curve-hugging and backless and sure to stop traffic. Her lips were painted to match the dress, her hair trailed down her back in soft curls, and she was balancing on four-inch spikes. She'd even painted her fingernails and toenails.

She looked gorgeous. And she also looked like she was trying too hard.

"You shouldn't be doin' this Max," Cindy said, the tinge of anger and hurt that had been in her voice now overridden by concern.

Max sighed, hanging her head as she zipped her bag shut. "Why not?" she asked, her voice tired. She didn't want to fight.

"You don't love him."

Max forced herself not to flinch as the words hit home. She had heard similar words before, from Flynn, and they were still true. "I could," Max said, almost wistfully. "I just need to try harder."

Cindy walked over to Max and turned her so that they were face to face, keeping her hands clasped around Max's upper arms. "Having sex is not tryin' harder, Max. It won't fix what's wrong wit' you an' Logan. It'll just complicate things."

She could tell from the set of Max's jaw and the look in her eyes that she was not getting through. Girl was fuckin' stubborn. "Dammit, Max! Stop and think about what you're doing!" she said with a raised voice, giving Max a little shake to punctuate her words.

Max closed her eyes and let her head fall back. "I'm tired of thinking, Cin. I just want to _feel_. What's so wrong with that?"

"This ain't casual sex were talkin' 'bout, boo. If it were jus' that, I'd say have at it. But this is _Logan_. That man is in love with you. What you're doin', it's not right."

Max tried to ignore the not-so-subtle pricks at her conscience. She'd made up her mind, and nothing was going to change it. She looked her friend in the eye and smiled weakly. "Look, I appreciate what you're trying to do. You always got my back. But this is somethin' I need to do, okay?"

OC's shoulders sagged in defeat. "You sure?" she asked softly, a line of worry dug between her eyebrows.

Max pulled Original Cindy to her and held on tight. "Yeah," she whispered shakily into OC's hair. She gave her friend one more squeeze, then pulled back. Max leaned over to pick up her bag, hefting it onto her shoulder. "See you Sunday," she said, the smile on her face never reaching her eyes.

Original Cindy turned and leaned against the doorjamb as she watched Max leave. She wanted to stop her, but she knew she couldn't. If Max was determined to make her own mistakes, she would just have to let her, and be there to catch her when she fell.

* * *

Max stood outside the Fairmont Olympic Hotel, in her stunning red dress, staring up at the grand entrance. Logan was somewhere inside, in what she was sure would be the best suite they had, waiting for her.

Her feet were rooted to the ground.

She'd been standing there for ten minutes. The enormity of what she was about to do had finally struck her.

She was about to spend the night with Logan. Make love with Logan. Once she did it, there was no going back.

Her inner soldier--the part of her that, as much as she liked to deny it, she would never truly be rid of--wasn't happy with her vacillation. She'd laid out her course of action. It was time to execute.

_Just do it, _the soldier commanded.

Max squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. She was doing this. She was going to do this, and no one--not Flynn or Original Cindy or Alec, not the person that stared back at her from the mirror every day--was going to get in her way.

Max walked into the Fairmont, a woman on a mission.

* * *

It was late. Much too late to be sitting on the floor of a bathroom in an expensive hotel. But there she was, on the floor, wrapped in nothing but one of the fluffy hotel robes, staring blankly at the mirrored wall of the bathroom.

She wished that she had listened to Original Cindy.

It wasn't that Logan was a horrible lover. Quite the opposite, actually. He had been gentle and giving, so concerned about her needs, so eager to please. He'd brought her to orgasm, though it had been more of a gentle wave of pleasure than a mind-numbing explosion.

It was just that… _and though she tried not to think of him, tried not to compare_… she had felt so much when she had been with Alec. So much that her body could hardly contain it. It was like their two souls had been connected. It had felt so _right_.

She had made love to Logan, and she had waited for that feeling to come, but it never did.

Afterward, when Logan had finally fallen asleep, a soft smile on his face, she found herself overwhelmed by everything she _didn't_ feel. She'd slipped out of bed, careful not to wake him, and retreated to the bathroom, where she could engage in self-loathing without interruption.

She'd been there for over an hour.

She stared herself in the mirrored wall until her eyes began to burn. She could almost hear Original Cindy's voice in her head, mimicking words of warning that had been uttered long ago…

_Guess you gone an' done somethin' stupid after all_.

Max laughed bitterly and rolled her eyes heavenward, then lifted the bottle of very expensive wine she'd brought with her into the bathroom and took a long swig. She didn't know why she bothered. She'd drunk more than half of the bottle, but it hadn't done a thing. Fucking metabolism.

What bothered her most was the empty feeling inside of her that Logan was unable to fill. She had hoped that maybe, if she took this step, that it would strengthen the connection between her and Logan and make that feeling go away.

She should have known better. She knew now, without a doubt, there was only one person that could fill that hole, and he was lost to her.

Max slowly set the wine bottle back down. In her distracted state, she didn't notice that she'd set the bottle down on the edge of her robe. It tipped over, spilling the expensive liquid onto the pristine tile floor in a small red pool.

Max looked at the pool of wine, head tilting slightly to the side as she pondered it. Red wine. It was a pretty color, one that contradicted itself. The color of romance. The color of anger. Love and hate, all wrapped up in it.

Love and hate. Max and Alec. They were the same.

Max knew that she would give anything to see Alec again. But if that wish ever came true, and one day she found him standing in front of her, she swore to herself that she would punch him dead in the face.

After two hours in the bathroom, Max managed to compose herself. She cleaned up the evidence of her late night angst-fest, then crawled back into bed with Logan. He was still out like a light, oblivious to her inner torment.

Max stared at the ceiling for the rest of the night, unable to shake the feeling that she had betrayed Alec and, worse yet, her own heart.

* * *

A/N: Don't hate me. I did warn you I was unrepentantly evil. (I think I can hear the cries of _NOOOOO!! _already.)

Do you still trust me?

Please review. The unrepentant evil woman craves feedback. Just give me a minute to duck and cover before you hit that button.


	22. Saying Goodbye

Gone

By Inzane

Disclaimer: I make no claim to Dark Angel, the episode Hello, Goodbye, on which this fic is loosely based, or the episode The Berrisford Agenda, which is quoted in this chapter.

Summary: How much abuse can a guy take before he snaps? Events in Hello, Goodbye take a different turn. AU from that point.

A/N: I know that I left myself wide open for negative reviews with the last chapter, but I had to stick to my guns. I was expecting to be blasted for it, so I was pleasantly surprised by all of the support I received. Sure, there was outrage, but it was _mostly _followed by support, and there were only a couple of truly negative reviews. I know I have grown as a writer when I can accept that not everyone will like what I write, and that I no longer need to stew over a negative review for days and days (_like I used to do_). So, to everyone that reviewed the last chapter, either positive or negative, I thank you.

* * *

Chapter 22: Saying Goodbye 

The night was full of music and laughter. The sound of it drifted up to him, where he stood on the flat roof of the little hotel. There was a wedding reception in full swing down below in the hotel courtyard, and even though it was well after midnight, it didn't look like it was going to end any time soon.

He'd come up to the roof, hoping either the cool beer he'd brought with him or the night air would soothe his overactive brain enough to let him sleep.

Alec sighed. Didn't look like that was going to be the case.

He spotted the bride and groom down below, his transgenic vision bringing them into clear focus. They looked so happy--completely oblivious to the heartache that was sure to come. And it _would_ come; you didn't have to be a precog to know that.

It didn't matter how much they loved each other. Every relationship had heartache. It was just a fact of life. And that heartache would either bring them closer together or tear them apart.

The bride's joyous laughter rang out over the noise of the crowd as her new husband unexpectedly spun her around and then dipped her.

Alec had to look away.

_Together_. They were together, and that was all that mattered to them. For now, they were happy.

He envied them.

Happiness was something that continually eluded Alec. At first, he hadn't really cared that much; he'd been content to be alive and sane. But gradually, as his personality slowly reemerged from where he'd buried it, he began to feel its loss. Just surviving was no longer enough. He wanted more.

He'd become a nomad, in the pursuit of it--constantly moving from town to town, looking for _something_, but not really sure what that something was. The further south he went, the greater his discontent. He kept thinking, _The next town. It'll be better in the next town_.

But it never was. It seemed that nothing could satisfy his restless soul.

Alec took another swig of beer, and his eyes unfocused as his thoughts turned inward.

Four months, he'd been in Mexico. Just as he went from one town to another, he gone from one girl to another. There was no shortage of beautiful women south of the border. He figured that failing to sample that beauty was practically a criminal offense, and these days, he was no criminal. He sampled. A lot. And if every woman that warmed his bed just happened to have dark hair and dark eyes, well, that was only a coincidence. If one particular dark-haired girl kept haunting his dreams at night, it didn't mean a thing. Just his mind replaying old events. Nothing more.

_Who're you kidding?_

Alec started, practically dropping his beer at the sound of the voice in his head. But then he realized that, this time, it was different. This wasn't the voice that had plagued him like a curse for so long--it was his own conscience.

_You're not crazy, Alec, just stupid. There is a very hot, very willing little señorita sleeping in your bed __**right now**__, and here you are, up on the roof, staring north. Like you do every goddamn night._

Alec closed his eyes and focused on the sounds of the party. It didn't help. He'd ignored his conscience for far too long, and it would have its say.

_If you hadn't been so stupid, you coulda figured out this thing you have for Max. But no, you had to go and fuck it up. You practically shoved her into Logan's arms, and now you are fucking miserable. _

"Shut up," Alec whispered to his conscience, taking another swig of beer and grimacing as the taste seemed suddenly bitter.

It was too late. There was no way to take back what he had done. If he had it to do all over again, maybe he would... _no. _There was no point in thinking about it--about _her_--because it was just too damn late. She was with Logan, end of story.

Alec took one final swallow of his beer, then smacked the bottle down on the edge of the roof, just a little too hard. The glass cracked.

He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth, took one last look north, then turned to head back down to his room.

It was time to move on to the next town and the next dark-haired girl.

* * *

Two months after Alec had moved on in search of the next dark-haired señorita, and six months after Max's first night with Logan, Joshua walked the streets of Terminal City, searching for Max. 

He'd been worried about her for a long time. She hadn't been the same, ever since Alec had disappeared. He'd been so happy when Max had told him that Logan had tracked down Alec in California and that she was going after him. It seemed like the old Max was finally back. But when she returned, it was like she had left part of herself behind. He'd watched as she looked for that part of herself, over the past year and a half, but she was always looking in the wrong place.

He'd kept his opinions to himself, partly because he'd thought Max needed to figure things out for herself, but also because Original Cindy had asked him to. Cindy had come to him with her concerns after Max had started seeing Logan again. She'd asked him not to say anything to Max, because, as she put it, "_our girl prob'ly feelin' ganged up on, wit' me and Flynn all up in her business like, so I figure she'd need a friend who could just be there, know what I'm sayin'?_"

Joshua had done what Cindy asked, but he'd kept a close eye on Max. He watched her slowly decline, watched as the fire slowly died from her eyes, until, finally, he couldn't take it anymore. He'd decided that he had to do something to help her, and if she hated him for it, then so be it.

* * *

Max was sitting crossed-legged next to Ari on top of an old Dumpster. They were watching Flynn and a couple of other X series and transhumans play a full contact version of basketball. Seemed like transgenics tended to make any sport full contact. It wasn't enough of a challenge, otherwise. The game had gathered quite a crowd. 

Max clapped and cheered with the rest of them, but she didn't realize how half-hearted her efforts were.

Flynn had recently come to the conclusion that there wasn't enough fun stuff to do around Terminal City, so he'd decided to do something about it. He'd managed to wrangle some basketballs, footballs, even a pool table... stuff that would, as he put it, "keep people out of trouble." Max wasn't sure how accurate his claim was, as two of the members of the current basketball game had left the game due to injury--one with a nasty cut over the eye that needed stitches, and the other with a broken finger. The guy with the broken finger--now taped up--was already back in the game.

"Come on, baby! Let's see a little offense!" Ari yelled, cheering for her man.

Flynn, in response to Ari's request, body checked an X4, spun, and then leapt over the last defender to execute a slam dunk that would've put the professionals to shame. He grinned at Ari, using his dimples to best advantage. "How's that for offense?"

Flynn then found his ass on the ground as Mole made him pay for his lack of attention. "Looks like your girl's on _our_ team, pal," Mole snarked, then turned his own attention back to the game before someone returned the favor.

Ari winced. "Sorry, Flynn!" she called out.

Catcalls and laughter erupted from the crowd as an irritated Flynn scrambled to his feet.

"Little Fella."

Max turned her head at the sound of this familiar nickname to find Joshua standing next to the Dumpster. Her smile widened.

"Hey, Big Fella. Come to watch the game?"

Joshua smiled back at her. "To see you."

Max patted an empty spot beside her. "Well, hop on up, then,"

Joshua shook his head, and reached up to tug on Max's arm. His face was suddenly serious. "No. Need you to come with Joshua."

Max's eyes narrowed as she observed the sudden tension in her friend. She put a hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong?"

Joshua reached up and covered Max's hand with his own. "Just come."

"Okay," Max said with a hint of question in her tone, and hopped down from the Dumpster.

She followed Joshua down the alley, walking fast to keep up with the dog man's longer stride. They didn't stop until they ended up in Joshua's studio. It had once been an executive office on the top floor of an office building--lots of windows, plenty of light. After living in the dark for so long, Joshua couldn't get enough of the light.

The big transhuman was pointedly quiet. He waved off Max's few attempts to find out what was going on. He didn't speak a word until he had steered Max in front of a large canvas. "What Max think?" he asked, gesturing smoothly toward the painting.

"_This _is what you're being all mysterious about?" Max said with exasperation, throwing her hands up. "Jeez, Joshua, don't worry me like that. I thought something was wrong."

"Something _is _wrong," Joshua said with utmost sincerity.

"What..." Max began, but Joshua interrupted her, placing his fingers lightly over her lips.

"No," he said, shaking his head. He turned Max back toward the painting. "Just look."

Max looked, and found that her eyes involuntarily began to cross. She had to force them to focus. To say the painting was abstract was an understatement. It was... she didn't know what it was. A riot of color and shape and motion, all swirling inside strong, bold lines bordering the edge of the painting. It looked familiar, somehow, but not.

"Nice," Max said, unable to come up with anything better to describe Joshua's artistic output.

Joshua chuffed at this. "Tell Joshua what really think."

Max frowned at the painting. She didn't want to hurt Joshua's feelings, but she couldn't lie to him when he asked her true opinion. "I don't know what to think, really. It's... confusing."

"Exactly," Joshua said, nodding as if that was the answer he had been looking for. "Max."

"What?" Max asked, turning away from the painting that disturbed her on some level.

"_Look_," the transhuman said, imploring Max to understand as he turned her back to look at his artwork. "_Max_," he said again, gesturing toward the painting.

Max's eyes widened slightly as what Joshua said struck her. It wasn't just some abstract piece of art; it was a portrait. _Her _portrait. She was hit by a sudden memory of a similar portrait, one that Joshua had created a long time ago. The one that made this painting seem so familiar.

"_Hey, big fella. Whatcha workin' on?" she asked him, as he stood in front of what she presumed was a painting of... something._

"_Joshua #57," he replied, content with his work._

"_Nice. What is it?"_

"_Alec. Alec very complicated."_

_Shit. This had been exactly what she'd been worried about. She didn't want Joshua becoming too attached to anyone else, especially Alec. She couldn't risk trusting Alec, or anyone else, with the transhuman's life. Joshua was too... innocent. He needed someone to look out for him, to protect him from the bad stuff that was out there--not someone who would make him want to experience it for himself. _

"_Listen, Joshua. I know you and Alec have... fun. But he's not someone you could...trust all the time. Especially now, when he's acting... so weird." _

"_You think Alec can outsmart me?"_

"_No. Not at all."_

"_Alec only outsmarts Alec. He doesn't know himself. Look." Joshua gestured to the painting. "Outside, lots of pretty colors. Tricks and treats. Inside, darkness. Confusion. Alec."_

Max closed her eyes, head turning to the side, as if she could turn away from the memory, could turn away from everything that new painting meant. Somehow, in her struggle to save Alec's soul, she had sacrificed a part of her own, and over a year and a half later, she was still dealing with the fallout. The roles had reversed. She'd lost herself, and now _she_ was the one that needed to be saved.

When she opened her eyes again, she saw Joshua staring at her with this _look_, one that said he could see into her very soul.

She had never confided in Joshua about Alec--at least, not how she felt about Alec. She never knew how to explain it to him in a way that wouldn't tear open old wounds. But, as she looked into Joshua's eyes, she could see that he understood far more than she realized.

"Max confused," Joshua said. "Outside, solid. Strong. But inside..."

"I'm not confused," Max said firmly, cutting Joshua off from the analysis that she was afraid to hear.

"… _inside_," Joshua continued, ignoring the interruption, "all mixed up." He made a swirling motion with his hand over the center of the painting. "Max think what want and what need are the same, when what think want is not really what Max want at all, and what need is not what Max think Max wants."

Max's brows furrowed at this cryptic statement. "Okay, now I _am _confused."

"Little Fella not happy," Joshua simplified. He wanted to tell her that Logan didn't make her happy, that she shouldn't have to rely on _anyone_ to make her happy, but he knew from talking to Original Cindy that this was a very touchy subject with Max. He didn't want to drive her away, so he'd figured he'd take the roundabout route.

Max smiled at him, as if to prove him wrong, and crossed her arms over her chest. "Why do ya say that?"

Joshua reached up and softly brushed Max's cheek. "Smiling with lips. Not eyes."

Max turned away from Joshua, closing the eyes that had given her away. She'd relaxed a bit and let her guard down, and, of course, Joshua would notice. "You're reading too much into it," she said with a laugh, but even to her own ears it sounded strained.

"Joshua is not."

Max huffed and ran a hand through her hair. She moved over to the windows and sat down hard on the windowsill. "You sound like Original Cindy," she said with a pout.

Joshua came over to the windows and sat down next to Max. "Original Cindy smart cookie."

"Yeah." Max looked down at the floor, swinging her feet lightly, feeling a hint of embarrassment. The silence stretched between them until Max had to fight not to squirm until Joshua's silent gaze. He looked at her in expectation, but she really had nothing to give that would placate him. There was only the harsh reality that she had come to accept a long time ago. "We can't always be happy, Big Guy. Life doesn't work that way."

"No, we cannot." Joshua paused, letting his words sink in before he continued. "Doesn't mean we should stop trying."

Max swallowed around the lump in her throat and stared very hard at her hands. "You think I stopped trying?"

Joshua reached up and wrapped an arm around Max's shoulders. "Only Max can answer that question."

Max did know the answer to the question--she just didn't like it. She leaned into Joshua, resting her head on his shoulder, and sighed heavily.

"I don't know, Joshua. It feels likes things have gone too far. I don't know where to go from here."

Joshua rested his cheek against the top of Max's head and hugged her a little tighter. "Quit looking back," he said in his deep, soft voice. "Can't go forward if keep looking back. Remember how to stand on your own."

* * *

Max went to the Space Needle, like she did every time she needed to do some heavy thinking. She hadn't been there much, lately. She'd been avoiding being alone with her own thoughts. 

Max was done with the avoidance game. It was long past time to face the hard facts. So she sat on top of the Space Needle, with arms wrapped around her legs and chin resting on the tops of her knees, and finally faced them.

There was a lot that she had to face--mainly, a year and a half of ignored advice. Original Cindy, Flynn, now Joshua … they had all tried to steer her away from the quietly self-destructive path she had chosen. She had stubbornly remained on that path, because she hadn't thought that a better one would come along.

It had been easier to just accept the bum hand that life had dealt her without a fight. She was tired of fighting. After everything that she had been through, for once, she just wanted things to be easy. And it _was_ easy, as long as she ignored the fact that she was not happy. Or sad. Or angry. Or anything at all, but drowning in apathy.

Joshua was right. She had stopped trying. She wasn't living her life. She was just going through the motions.

It had to stop.

She'd been born a fighter. She and her siblings hadn't accepted the shitty life Manticore had provided for them. They had taken a chance and fought for a new life, hoping that there was something better out there.

It hadn't been better for all of them. Zack. Tinga. And Ben. Poor Ben, who had wanted freedom so badly, but hadn't known what to do with it once he had it. Still, it was better to fight, better to go down swinging, than to accept that your lot in life could not be changed.

She had fought for Alec's soul. Now it was time to fight for her own.

Max tilted her head backwards as she felt the first drops of rain begin to fall. Within a minute, it had become a steady downpour. She really should get inside--on top of the Space Needle was no place to be during a rainstorm--but she stayed where she was.

She closed her eyes and opened her senses to the storm, a ghost of a smile on her face. The rain felt cool and clean. It felt as if it was washing away the shell that had gradually encased over the past year and a half.

_You can't save me, Max_.

She remembered the words Alec had said to her, the day he'd left. At the time, those words had made her feel like she had failed him. But he had been right.

She didn't need someone to save her. She had to save herself.

* * *

She was late. 

Logan had planned a nice, quiet dinner. He'd roasted a pork tenderloin and had purchased two bottles of excellent vintage pre-pulse wine. He'd lit the candles and loaded the table with pink roses. He'd put on some soft, romantic music. He figured if this was possibly to be their last meal together, they might as well do it right.

He knew something was wrong. He'd known for a long time.

He'd been gathering up his courage for over a month, now. He knew something had to change, even if it was to end it. He couldn't go on living like this. Max had given him her body, but not her heart. It wasn't enough.

It had come down to a choice--all or nothing.

He'd planned to sit down with her, have a nice dinner, and discuss their relationship like mature adults. He'd even planned out what he would say to her. But that plan was shot to hell, because Max was late. The roast was left untouched on the dining room table, long cold.

The sun had set a half an hour ago. An hour before that, he had started drinking. Just some wine to calm his nerves. But then, time moved on and Max still didn't show, and he'd had some more. More wine on an empty stomach.

By the time Max finally showed, he had downed most of the bottle. The speech he had prepared was forgotten.

Mature adults be damned. He was wallowing in drunken misery, and found that he could no longer take the high road.

* * *

Max walked into Logan's apartment, soaking wet from the rain. She peeled herself out of her wet jacket, calling out apologies to the air. She was late, and she knew it, but she had been trying to figure out what to do about Logan. She didn't want to hurt him, but she couldn't go on like this. _They _couldn't go on like this. 

It was dark in the apartment. The only light came from the low-burning fire. At first, she didn't spot him--he was unnaturally still, especially for an ordinary. Then she noticed him sitting in a chair in the darkest part of the room, legs crossed and an empty wineglass held loosely in one hand. A shiver ran though her.

"Hey? Why're you sittin' in the dark?" she asked, then moved to turn on the lamp sitting on the table next to him. Before she could twist the knob, his voice froze her in place.

"Why can't you forget him?"

Max slowly straightened and took a step back, the lamp untouched. Her heart pounded in her chest. _This is it_, she thought. _This is the end of me and Logan_.

But then her mind backtracked, replaying Logan's words. They was a slight slur to them. When she focused her other senses on him, she could smell the wine, see the light flush on his cheeks, even in the low light.

"You're _drunk_," she said, with a touch of derision, ignoring his question. She didn't want to do this when he was drunk. It wasn't fair, to either of them.

She turned and started toward the bedroom, deciding a tactical retreat was the best course of action. She wanted to get out of her wet clothes.

Her eyes widened when Logan got up and blocked the entrance to the bedroom with his arm, staring down with a look that bored right through her.

"_Why_, Max?" he asked again, body leaning in toward her.

Max got a whiff of the wine on his breath and automatically drew her head back. _Just ignore him_, she told herself. _He's drunk_.

Max waited a beat, returning the look with one of her own. "Go to bed, Logan," she said icily, then turned around and headed toward the kitchen.

Logan didn't take her advice. He followed her. The alcohol had bolstered his courage, and there was no stopping him now.

"He's been gone for over a year and a half," Logan said to her retreating back as he followed her. "A _year and a half_, Max!"

Max turned around and leaned back against the counter. This was not how she wanted this to go down. She pinned him with a glare. "We are not having this discussion when you're drunk."

Logan drew back his head, and the motion made him wobble only slightly. He was a fairly smooth drunk. "Haven't talked about it when I'm sober either, so what's your point?"

Max rolled her eyes in a give-me-strength gesture and turned to the fridge. She yanked open the door, grabbed a beer, and angrily twisted off the cap. Before she could take a sip, Logan stepped in right front of her, took the bottle from her hand, and smacked it down on the counter.

"What do you want from me?!" Max yelled, already fed up with trying to deal with his drunken ass, especially when he got up in her face like that.

"The truth!" Logan yelled back, throwing his arms up in the air. "Is that too much to ask?"

Max stared up at him, jaw muscles tight as her teeth ground together. There was a long moment with two pairs of angry eyes staring at each other. But then, Logan took a step back, then another. His eyes were locked on Max's. "After all this time," he said, his voice once again calm, "I think I deserve a little honesty."

Honesty. He wouldn't be satisfied until he got it. She hadn't wanted to do it this way, but he wasn't leaving her any choice.

"I thought we could make this work, Logan. I really did. I figured I would forget about him. But I _can't_," Max said, closing her eyes for a moment in remembered pain. "I tried, _God_, I really _tried_. But I just can't forget."

"You've been using me."

Max jerked, the accusation like a slap, and right on target. She _had _been using him. She'd used him to push other men away, then she'd used him to push her own memories away. She'd used him to try to distract herself from the gaping hole Alec had left inside of her.

"_Yes_," she whispered shamefully.

Logan closed his eyes, a pained look on his face. He'd asked the question, but hadn't really wanted to hear the answer. Not _that _answer, anyway. His next words were bitter.

"I guess a mere human like me can't compare to the memory of a lover that can match your stamina and strength with his own." As soon as the words left his lips, he wished that he hadn't said it, but he couldn't stop himself. It was at the root of all of his insecurities when it came to Max.

And it really pissed Max off.

"Don't you _dare_ play the race card with me, Logan," she said vehemently, poking him in the chest. "That's a fucking copout, and you know it!"

She pushed past him and into the living room. She could feel him at her back. This was getting out of control. She had to keep her cool, because Logan was drunk, and he was saying things he would normally keep to himself. She stopped in front of the fire, and took several deep breaths, trying to calm down. She sighed, shoulders sagging. "What does it matter anyway? He's gone."

"He's not gone!" Logan snapped, blue eyes a little wild as he spun her around to face him. "Every time I touch you, every time I hold you in my arms, he's between us!"

Max closed her eyes. She couldn't deny it. "I didn't want him to be," she said quietly.

"But he _is_."

Logan paused for a long time, staring at the woman he loved but that did not love him. He felt his anger drain away, and his grip loosened. He hadn't wanted to end it like this. If it had to end, he'd wanted it to be in a way that would shame neither of them. He smiled sadly at her. "You never answered my question."

_Why __**couldn't **__she forget Alec? _It was something she had asked herself so many times. All she knew was that the more she tried to forget, the harder it became.

"What I feel for him," Max said, trying to verbalize something she wasn't sure could be explained, "it's not because he's transgenic like me. It's just because he's…," she shrugged, "_Alec_. I know you can't understand that, 'cause you never looked more than skin deep, and for the longest time, neither did I. I didn't want to look, because I knew I'd get tangled up in what was beneath the surface. I didn't want that. I wanted to be a normal girl, live a normal life, and then there he was, forcing me to accept myself for who I really was, accept the things that I'd done. Accept being different."

"I accepted you, Max."

Max shook her head. She thought of all the times she'd lied to Logan, kept parts of herself hidden, because she knew he wouldn't approve. All those gray areas that didn't fit into the black and white world he wanted to believe in.

He was right, though. He'd accepted Max, but it was the Max she'd allowed him to see. Not the real Max.

"You don't want me, Logan. You want the person I've been pretending to be, and I just can't pretend anymore."

There was silence between them once more. They were only a few feet apart, but there was a chasm between them that could no longer be crossed. Logan had held on to the slim hope that they could work things out, but he could see now that it was never going to happen. It was time to let go.

But, _God_, it was _hard_.

Max slowly closed the distance between them. She took his hand in hers, and stared down at it, unable to take the raw pain in his eyes.

"I never meant to hurt you, Logan. I've been six kinds of stupid, and you had to pay the price; for that, I am so sorry. But... this life we've been leading... it's... _empty_. You _know _that." She gave his hand a squeeze. "It's time to end this."

Logan pulled away from her and moved back over to the chair. He sat down hard, defeated. His eyes stared off into the distance, watching the future he had envisioned for himself dissolve into nothingness.

"I wish I'd never found him," Logan said, more to himself than Max.

Max moved over to the chair and crouched down in front of it to look Logan in the eye. "Don't blame this on Alec, Logan. You wanna blame me, fine, I deserve it. God knows I'm no saint. But don't blame him." She paused, and when she spoke again, her words softened. "You and me, Logan, we were over before we'd even begun; we just refused to see it."

Logan closed his eyes and hung his head. "I know," he said, his voice a choked whisper. After a moment, he raised his head and opened his eyes, which shone with unshed tears. There was only one thing left to say.

"Goodbye, Max."

Max smiled sadly, then leaned forward and kissed Logan softly on the lips. One last kiss.

"Goodbye, Logan."

She ran a hand over his cheek, lingering for a moment before letting her hand fall to her side. She backed away a few steps, giving him one last smile, then turned and walked out of Logan Cale's life.

* * *

Max stood on the beach, bare feet buried ankle deep in the cool sand, and waited for the sun to come up. 

She'd driven for hours to get to Shi Shi, just the wind and the road and her Ninja purring beneath her. She'd had to siphon a few gas tanks to fuel her baby before she left, causing a minor twinge of guilt, but the end result was worth it.

The view was breathtaking.

The rocky beach was absolutely perfect in the moonlight. It had the type of raw beauty that only Mother Nature was capable of creating. She watched the moon journey across the sky--reflecting off sand and surf--until it finally dipped out of sight.

She felt like her own journey had finally come to an end.

That journey had begun the moment Alec had walked out of her life. She'd hit a few bumps in the road and had taken a long detour along the way, but she'd finally reached her destination and found that it wasn't such a bad place after all, and that, surprisingly enough, she _could_ stand on her own. Somehow, she'd forgotten that.

She still loved Alec. A part of her would probably always love him. But she didn't need to forget him. She didn't need to cling to someone else to prove to herself that she could live without him. She didn't need someone else to make her feel whole again. She may never again feel for someone the way she did for Alec, but that was okay. _She _was okay.

A smile slowly spread across Max's face as she felt a weight lift from her shoulders. No more living in the past. No more worrying about the future. She'd face each day as it came, and face it with the knowledge that there was always a better day, somewhere around the corner.

Finally, the hole inside of her began to heal.

She felt the first rays of the sun on her back, and turned to face the dawn.

* * *

A/N: Up next… the final chapter. 

_End of Chapter Disclaimer: The writer of this story is not responsible for any panic attacks that may be induced by the previous statement. _


	23. Whole Again

Gone

By Inzane

Disclaimer: In the end, I still do not own Dark Angel.

Summary: How much abuse can a guy take before he snaps? Events in Hello, Goodbye take a different turn. AU from that point.

A/N: Forgive the delay, but, you know, real life and such...

To those of you who have been with me since the beginning in June of 2007 (can you believe it was that long ago?), and to those of you who have joined along the way, I would like to express my deepest gratitude for all of the support and constructive criticism that you have sent my way. If this story is good, it is because you all helped me make it that way.

And now, we've finally reached the end of the road. I hope you enjoyed the journey.

* * *

Chapter 23: Whole Again

"Boo, you best finish girlin' up quick, or Original Cindy is leavin' yo' ass behind!"

Max paused in putting on her mascara and turned her head toward the sound of the annoyed voice that had come from the living room. Cindy had been looking forward to checking out the new club over on Pike all week, and she apparently was in no mood to wait.

"Keep your panties on!" Max yelled. "I'll be done in five!"

"You better be," Cindy's voice growled from the other room. Her friend fell silent, so Max finished applying her mascara. She was just screwing the cap back on when she heard Cindy call out, "And who said I'm wearin' panties?"

Max burst out laughing--true, heartfelt laughter that lit up her face. "I so did not need to know that, Cin!" she laughingly called out through the open door, and got back to applying the rest of her makeup.

A few minutes later, she was done. She shoved her tube of lipstick into her pocket, then straightened and took a look at the reflection in the mirror.

She liked what she saw.

It had been three months since she and Logan had called it quits. Her hair was shorter, falling to just below her collarbone. She'd had it layered a bit, and her dark locks now fell about her in soft curls. The makeup accentuated her dark eyes and superior bone structure. And, she had to admit, she was looking extremely fine in her black, curve-hugging leather vest, very short denim skirt, and heels that could be considered a lethal weapon in twelve states.

But most of all, she liked what she saw in her face. In her eyes. The haunted look that had stared back at her from the mirror for what seemed like forever was gone. When she looked into her own eyes, she wasn't reminded of the misery she had endured. She wasn't half a person--she was _whole_. The person in the mirror was everything that she'd stubbornly refused to realize she'd been missing for so long.

Strong. Independent. _Complete. _

"Shugga, you keep starin' at yo'self like that, a sista's gon' b'lieve you switched to the all-girl team."

Max's head whipped around to find Cindy, also dressed up and looking very fine, standing in the open doorway, leaning against the frame with her arms crossed over her chest. Max smiled, grateful that it no longer felt like a lie.

"'Fraid the all-girl team will have to be disappointed. Max Guevara is lookin' for a little action of the male persuasion tonight."

OC shook her head, as if Max was a recalcitrant student that just didn't get the point. "Don' know how you can stand it. Having to deal wit' all that sweat and testosterone and bulging muscles? Ugh."

Max's smile turned a little wicked, and her eyes had a dreamy look. "Mmmm... yeah."

Cindy's eyes narrowed. "You not going into heat, are you?"

Max answered with a laugh and started toward the door, which made Original Cindy even more suspicious. OC barred the exit with her arm and gave Max a pointed glare. "'Cause if I have to drag you into a cold shower, girlfriend, I will."

"Not heat. Just horny."

The suspicion faded from Original Cindy's eyes, replaced by a slow smile. She lowered her arm. "Guess we better get goin', then."

She would let Max have her fun; she'd just have to keep an eye on her. After all, aside from some casual flirting since she'd broken up with Logan, Max hadn't played the field in quite some time.

The two girls headed down the stairs, planning to meet up with Cece, Sketchy, Flynn, and Ari. As they stepped outside into the night air, Cindy gave Max a sideways look and said, "No gettin' freaky wit' anyone 'til you get his name."

"_Please_," Max scoffed. As if she wouldn't get his name first.

"And find out if he got his own place. Don't want no mama's boys."

"Right," Max replied, nodding. Definitely a valid point.

There was a long pause, then Original Cindy added. "_And _gone out, like, at least three times."

Max rolled her eyes. "Yes, Mom."

* * *

Life went on, and it was good.

Max felt like herself again. She went out and had fun. Lots and lots of fun. She was young and full of transgenic energy, and she was determined to live life to the fullest for as long as she could. Who knew when the government or Familiars or just plain ignorant people would step up their campaign against transgenics? Better to live every moment like it could be your last.

So that was exactly what Max did.

It was incredibly liberating. She'd done more in the past couple of months than she had in the past two or three years. She'd even tried casual sex of the non-heat-induced variety a time or two. There were no strings, no pressure--just two people enjoying each other's bodies. When it was over, _she _wasthe one to say _I'll call you _and not really mean it. At this stage of her life, she was okay with that. She wasn't looking for a relationship. If one found her, she wouldn't run the other way, but she didn't _need_ one.

She couldn't be with another transgenic, though. That was one line she could not make herself cross.

* * *

After they broke up, Max and Logan avoided each other for a while, though for different reasons. Max didn't think she could deal with the guilt; Logan didn't think he could deal with the pain.

At first, anytime Max got a package to deliver in Logan's part of town, she would trade up with someone working a different sector. Initially, Logan avoided Crash, or any other place he thought he might run into Max. But after a while, they both found that time really does heal.

The first time they bumped into each other, it had been… well, awkward was putting it lightly. Max had stopped at a random deli to snag a sandwich between runs, and Logan had been there waiting to meet Asha about some S1W deal. There had been a brief attempt at conversation--which mainly amounted to fragmented sentences and uncomfortable silences--before Max had bugged out of there with the excuse that she had a couple of runs to finish.

She never even got her sandwich.

Although it had been a painful meeting and uncomfortable on both sides, it somehow broke the ice that had formed between them. A week later--and after changing her mind four times--Max called Logan to ask for his help with some special computer stuff Dix wanted for TC. A week after that, Logan called her and hesitantly asked her to help with an important Eyes Only mission. It continued, until eventually things weren't so awkward anymore, and they could at least be friendly, if not really friends.

Max found herself stopping by Logan's place a couple of times a month now that their quid pro quo relationship had resumed. It seemed that Asha was there a lot. She could tell from the way Logan acted that nothing was currently going on between the two of them, but she could also tell from the way Asha acted that the woman wished that something _was _going on.

Max hoped that something would come of it, for Logan's sake. He was a good man. He deserved to be happy.

* * *

Two years.

Two years to the day since Alec walked out of her life.

Max sat on top of the Space Needle with her arms wrapped around her legs and watched the sun set. She'd done it so many times before. This time, though, she wasn't brooding--there was no frown on her face, no slump to her posture. It was more like simple introspection... taking a look back at her life to see how far she had come.

Lately, she hadn't come to the Space Needle for heavy thinking. She hadn't really felt the need for heavy thinking. Lately, she came more for the view and the sense of freedom she felt while standing so high above the teeming life of the city than for anything else. But today... today was different. Today, she wanted to think.

Love really did kind of suck.

She had been a mess for so long. A mess because she had fallen in love with a wonderful, beautiful, deeply damaged man who could not feel for her what she felt for him. She'd almost let it destroy her.

If given a choice, would she have done it all over again?

She honestly didn't know. And what did it matter, anyway, because she didn't have that choice. No point in playing woulda, coulda, shoulda.

Love had destroyed her relationship with Logan--as friends and as lovers. Destroyed it because she could not feel for him what he felt for her. As much as she wished it were not the case, their friendship would never be the same.

Maybe love was worth it; maybe it wasn't. She hadn't really come to a decision on that one yet. It might take years before she could figure it out.

That was okay. She had plenty of time.

Max stood and took a deep breath, taking one last look at the horizon. The sun had almost set, transforming the sky into colors almost too vivid to be real. She sighed contentedly.

Life was good.

She turned to leave, then froze as she felt that life come to a screeching halt. Her breath caught in her throat, and she suddenly found that she was unable to blink.

Two years. Two years to the fucking _day_, and there he was in front of her.

He stood there, just a few feet away, with his hands shoved in his pockets and his shoulders slightly hunched, as if he was expecting some form of punishment but thinking he probably deserved it. He radiated tension, and his eyes were averted, looking down and to the right.

He was so... she wanted to... _Oh, God_.

"_Alec_." The word came out in a choked whisper.

At the sound of his name, Alec's eyes--those wonderful, gold-flecked green eyes, and, _Christ, how she'd missed them_--flicked to hers. He bit his bottom lip for a moment, then took a deep breath and let it out.

The first word he said to her in two years was hesitant and barely above a whisper.

"Hey."

* * *

Two years. Alec hadn't talked to her in two years, and just the sound of her voice caused every damn thought to fly out of his head. It was like his brain was misfiring. All he could manage was a pathetic _Hey_.

She messed him up. It had been true then, and it was true now.

But still, he came back. Something about her called him back.

He'd tried to ignore the pull she had on him. He'd tried really hard. He tried to lose himself in another land, in another woman's arms, but it hadn't worked. He just kept thinking about her and thinking about her until it felt like he was gonna go crazy.

One day, he just stopped fighting it. He left everything behind but the clothes on his back and headed north.

There hadn't been any thought to where he was going. It was his heart guiding him, not his head, and he followed it, riding hard and fast on a stolen motorcycle, until he found himself on the outskirts of Seattle.

He just needed to see her again. That was all he wanted. If he could just see her again, see how she had moved on without him, that she was happy, then he could get over this obsession he had with her. Then he could go to sleep without dreaming about her every night.

He was cautious when he entered Seattle. It wasn't because he was a wanted man--well, wanted by the police, anyway. Max had told him back when they were in California that, with a little help from Logan, he'd been cleared of the murder charges. He was sure that the government would still love to get their hands on him, but he was used to that.

No, what he was worried about was running into another transgenic. He planned to stay far away from Terminal City. Max had told him how the toxic city's population had grown. Avoiding being spotted by one transgenic was possible. Avoiding an entire population of them was another matter. He wanted to face Max on his own terms, and to do that, he needed time.

Before he finally gathered the courage to confront her, he'd been watching her for days. At first, he had watched Logan's place, because that was where he truly expected her to be. They had the cure, after all. He'd given it to them.

He didn't see her there. What he did see left him blinking in confusion as he stared through Logan's window.

It wasn't Max with Logan. It was Asha. And it wasn't that he'd caught them in _flagrante delicto_; if that had been the case, he would've assumed that Logan was cheating on Max. But it wasn't; it was simpler than that. It was the hesitant brush of hands, the shared looks, the utter awareness that two people in the first flush of a budding relationship had for each other.

But... that couldn't be. Max was with Logan. Max loved _Logan_.

His mind was reeling. If Max wasn't with Logan... every assumption he'd made about his life, about his need to come to Seattle, his need to get her out of his system, was suddenly thrown into disarray.

For the first time in a long time, he was scared.

The next day, he found her at Jam Pony. He'd concealed himself across the street and waited for hours to catch a glimpse of her. When he finally did, he felt his heart skip a beat.

He'd forgotten how beautiful she was. His dreams didn't do her justice.

She walked out of Jam Pony with Original Cindy, Sketchy, and a blonde guy with shaggy hair that fell into his eyes, a guy that Alec thought looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't take his eyes from Max long enough to figure it out. The guy was saying something to Max, which Max responded to by sending a swat at the guy's head and laughing. Alec felt a stab of something that he didn't admit was jealousy, then a girl he didn't recognize came out and dragged the guy away, in such a familiar manner that clearly indicated the pair were a couple. He felt his jealousy_--shut up, he was not jealous_--ease as the guy disappeared.

Then, all he could see what Max.

She'd cut her hair. It was still that dark, glossy color, but it was shorter now, and kind of wavy. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. He remembered her hair the way it used to be--the long, silken strands that ran down her back. He remembered how it felt to run hands through it, when they had... when they'd almost...

He closed his eyes for a moment. Better not to think of that.

It was silly, but a part of him had expected her to be exactly the same as he remembered her. But it had been two years. People change. He had, and so had she.

She looked happy, and that was the biggest change of all. The last time he'd seen her, she'd been drowning in misery. Misery that he had caused.

There was no hint of that now. Her eyes were bright, and her smile was so brilliant it could rival the sun. It made something inside of him ache, but he couldn't look away.

For the next two days, he watched her. He watched her deliver packages, visit Terminal City, go home to her apartment with Cindy. He watched her hang out at Crash and casually flirt with a couple of guys.

Max had moved on with her life. She _had _a life. Alec wished he could say the same.

He thought about not seeing her. He could just disappear, move on to some other place, and she would be none the wiser. She was happy today, and she would be happy tomorrow when he was gone.

But he couldn't do it. He needed closure--at least, that was what he told himself. It was time to close the book on this portion of his life.

Maybe then he would stop thinking about her.

It was another day before he made up his mind to do it. He'd followed Max all day. She seemed a bit more somber that day. She occasionally got this faraway look in her eyes, one that made him wish he could do something about it, but he kept his distance.

He watched as she grabbed a quick bite from a street vendor. He happened to be down the street at the time, next to a newspaper stand, and that was when he noticed it. There, in tiny black letters on the newspaper.

The date.

Two years. It was two years to the day.

It made his heart pound. Two years _exactly_. It had to mean something.

He followed her as she headed across town, the level of anxiety in him approaching epic proportions. After a few blocks, he realized where she was headed.

The Space Needle.

He chewed on the side of his thumbnail as he watched her enter the abandoned tourist attraction. His heart threatened to mutiny and pound right out of his chest. He pictured her climbing the many stairs, pictured her climbing up on top, pictured the wind flowing through her shorter, wavier hair.

A half an hour later, and he still found himself rooted in one spot.

Enough. He could do this. Whether he liked it or not, he was still a soldier, and a soldier didn't back down when things got tough.

He forced himself to quit biting thumbnail, which was now quite ragged. He lowered his arm and squared his shoulders.

_Come on, Alec. Now or never._

* * *

He'd made it all the way up the Space Needle without hesitating once. As he neared the top, he went into full-on stealth mode so Max wouldn't hear him. That was one thing that he'd always been really good at back at Manticore--sneaking up on another transgenic without them sensing him.

Once he went up top, he found himself frozen in place once more. She was sitting with her back to him, staring out at the horizon. His training hadn't failed him, because she made no sign that she was aware of his presence.

He'd been watching her for days, but he hadn't been this close to her since he'd left her in that alley in California. The proximity caused a small riot in his brain, and that was what froze him in place. He had so many conflicting emotions all at once; he could barely make sense of half of them.

On top of all of that, he was afraid how she would react to seeing him again. They hadn't exactly parted under the best of circumstances.

Max suddenly stood, and he realized he wasn't ready to face her. But then he had no more time, because she was turning, eyes widening as she whispered his name, and the only stupid thing he could think of to say was _Hey_.

* * *

Max's mouth fell slightly open, and she blinked slowly several times. Her brain was trying to figure out if the man in front of her was a figment of her imagination, one that would disappear the next time she closed her eyes.

But he didn't disappear. Alec wasn't a dream; he was _real_.

She felt a tremor begin in her hands, and clenched them into tight fists to keep him from seeing.

* * *

Alec swallowed hard as Max just stared at him. He had no idea what to say to her. He had no idea where he stood with her.

Or, for that matter, where he _wanted_ to stand.

She wasn't with Logan anymore, and that had certainly thrown a monkey wrench into his big plan to get her out of his system, but could she possibly still have feelings for him? After all this time, and after what he had done? He seriously doubted it. It had been two years, for fuck's sake. No way her feelings had run that deep. And besides, you couldn't really trust feelings that developed out of a crisis situation. Those kinds of feelings always seemed overwhelming at the time, but they quickly faded once normalcy returned.

She _couldn't_ still care about him; his mind insisted on this fact. Because if she still cared about him, that made his guilt over the way he had left much, much worse.

After the initial shocked whisper of his name, Max hadn't said a word, and the silence was reaching uncomfortable levels. Alec later figured the silence must've caused him temporary insanity, because he once again spoke without thinking.

"I… uh… was in the neighborhood…" he began, a hint of a smirk on his face, but he immediately trailed off when he saw Max's face change from shock to an I-can't-believe-you-fuckin'-said-that look. _Okay, that was stupid_, he mentally chastised himself.

He cleared his throat and tried to ignore the overwhelming tension between them. He figured he would keep it light--pretend like it hadn't been two years since he'd seen her face. No pressure.

_Right_.

"Just... heading to Canada. Figured I'd try north of the border for a while," he continued, his voice strained at first but then soon falling into the smooth, lively pattern he'd had before he left Seattle. "Thought I'd stop by, you know, visit the old haunts, see a few friends…"

Which was complete bullshit, of course. He hadn't really been planning on going to Canada. He hadn't had a plan at all, actually. He just knew that he needed to see Max, just one more time, if only for some closure.

Max blinked and a little line appeared between her brows, like his words weren't registering. Alec took a step toward her, and her saw her entire body jerk as if he'd startled her. He took a small step back and held his hands out in the universal no-harm gesture.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... oh, hell. I didn't really wanna do this this way." He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated and nervous and angry with himself, all at once. "I don't really know _how _to do this. I... I just… um… I wanted to let you know that I'm all right."

He saw a hint of disbelief in her face at his words, and, looking back, he realized he probably shouldn't have said it that way. Every other time he'd said those words, he hadn't meant it. He took a took a step closer to her, and this time, she didn't flinch. It gave him the courage to continue. "I _am _all right. Really. No one in here but me," he said, smiling a little and tapping a finger to his temple.

Max still didn't say anything. Her only response was to bow her head and nod lightly. Alec wasn't sure how to handle it. Even when she'd been upset, as she had been the last time he'd seen her, she'd never been at a loss for words.

"So…" he continued hesitantly, a hint of the confusion he felt slipping into his voice, "I just wanted to thank you. For coming after me. For being there for me. I don't think I could've gotten through it without you."

Dammit, he wished that she'd look at him. How the hell could he figure out what she was thinking if she wouldn't even look at him, much less talk to him? Was she even listening? Shit. This was not going well at all.

He paused and took another step toward her, closing the distance between them. He tilted his head and leaned to the side a little to try to catch a glimpse of her face.

"Max?"

* * *

She heard him. She heard every word. The problem was, she was cycling so fast through shock, joy, disbelief, anger, and desperate hope, that she couldn't choose a reaction.

But then she heard that word. That one word that cut through everything to the very heart of her, reminding her of everything she had overcome in the past two years.

It was her name. He'd said her name.

Max raised her head enough to look at him from under her brows. Her eyes narrowed.

Said her name like he had the fuckin' _right_.

Her fist flew, catching him right on the cheekbone and sending his head snapping back.

Alec stumbled back a few steps, shock tinged with anger evident on his face. He wasn't sure what he had expected from her, but this definitely was not it.

"Ow!" he griped, reaching up gingerly to touch his cheekbone, which was now throbbing with in time with his pulse.

Max stood, breathing hard, with her hands in fists at her sides. She was freaking out--seriously freaking the fuck out. She'd thought she was over it, over him. It had taken what felt like forever, but she finally felt like she was able to stand on her own again. And then _he _shows up, and suddenly her entire world was turned upside down.

She felt all the old feelings threatening to resurface, and she knew she couldn't allow that. She couldn't handle losing him. Not again. Never again.

"You sonofabitch," she hissed, taking a menacing step toward him. "I finally get on with my life, and you think you can just walk back into it like nothing ever happened?"

Alec frowned. _No, you're supposed to be in love with Logan. I'm supposed to get you outta my system, get you the fuck out so I can stop thinking about you every night and seeing your face every time I close my eyes. That's what I was thinking. _"Look, Max, I wasn't gonna..."

"Weren't gonna what?" Max interrupted. "Pop into my life long enough to fuck it up and then leave me high and dry, like last time?"

"Come on, now, that's not fair. I had to leave."

"Yeah. Just like you had to listen to Manticore when they told you to let me almost kill Logan with the fuckin' virus."

Alec could feel the anger rising in him. He hadn't come here for a fight. Why did it always turn into a fight between them?

"Hey, I got you the cure for the _fuckin' virus_. I made amends."

"Oh, yeah, and thank you _soooo _much for that. I really appreciated you forcing my hand."

Alec jabbed a finger at her angrily. "You know, since practically the day I met you, you were holding that virus thing over my head. I'm able to finally even the score on that one, and you're gonna hold it against me?"

Max's response was to fold her arms over her chest and glare at him, chin raised in defiance. That look made his blood boil just a bit hotter.

"And you can just get off you high horse right now, sweetheart, 'cause it's not like you been fuckin' perfect when it comes to dealin' with me. You forget why I ended up in LA in the first place?" That was a low blow, but the words had come out of his mouth before he could stop them. She'd always had that affect on him.

His words had quite an affect on Max. It was like everything shut down all at once, and her face became a mask. "That's not fair," she said quietly.

"If life were fair, we would've never been born. We would've been a crazy idea that would've been scrapped because it was so very wrong to build a human like you'd build a goddamn tank. Our lives have never been fair."

Max looked away. She remembered Joshua's words to her, that day in his studio. "Doesn't mean we shouldn't want 'em to be," she responded quietly.

_Want_, Alec thought. That was what this was all about. _Want_. What did he want from her? What did she want?

His eyes narrowed. _And speaking of want..._

"And why the hell aren't you with Logan, anyway? You always said that the only thing standing in your way was the virus. I don't get it." _Don't get it 'cause I don't wanna get it, don't wanna understand, 'cause anything else is just too fuckin' much, makes me want things I shouldn't have. _"I thought you wanted to be with Logan?"

"I wanted to be with _you!_" Max cried out as she whipped her head around, hair flying.

Alec's head drew back and his jaw snapped shut with an audible click. All of his denials were useless now.

"I wanted to be with you," Max continued, her words holding the strong bite of bitter anger, "and you left me. You left me without a backward fuckin' glance."

Alec blinked several times, trying to keep up while his brain shifted gears. "I didn't really think ... "

Max flipped her hair over her shoulder and stuck her hands on her hips. "Obviously. But don't worry. I'm over it. Over _you_. And you know what? I'm fine! I am fan_fucking_tastic! I'm livin' large and lovin' every minute of it. I don't need you."

And, oh, how those last four words hurt. Hurt both of them--Alec because he knew they were true and Max because she knew they were a lie.

They stared at each other for a moment, with nothing but the wind between them.

Max memorized every detail of his face. His mesmerizing hazel-green eyes, framed by thick eyelashes many women would kill for. The light smattering of freckles across his nose that he always pretended he didn't have. Those soft, full lips that had once given her so much pleasure.

She knew she would never see his face again.

It was too much.

Max turned away, sucking in gasping breaths as she tried to keep the tears at bay. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself, trying to stop the ache inside of her.

Alec had seen the tears welling in her eyes before she had turned away from him, and it made his throat tighten. He took a step toward her, reaching out to touch her shoulder.

"Max?"

As soon as his hand brushed her shoulder, she flinched, and he yanked his hand back away as if he'd been burned.

"Do you have any idea how much you hurt me?" Max's voice, so full of anguish, seemed to surround him like the swirling wind.

Alec hung his head. He'd been a fool. He'd never really believed that she could possibly feel that much for him, and in doing so, he had hurt her, deeply.

"I didn't mean to," Alec said quietly to her back.

Max sniffed, then angrily wiped at her eyes, still refusing to turn and look at him. "So that's supposed to make it all better? 'Cause you didn't mean it?" Her words were an amalgam of anger and heartbreak.

A pained smile flitted across Alec's face. "I guess not."

He thought of all of the things they had done to each other since they had met. The virus. The cruel words that had sent him off the deep end. His week of captivity, at her hands. Their fight on the roof. How he'd left. How he'd stayed gone.

Some things could not be forgiven.

He wasn't sure what else to say. There wasn't much left _to _say. It wasn't the closure he was looking for, but it looked like it was the best he was gonna get.

"Goodbye, Max," he said softly, and turned to walk out of her life once more.

* * *

She heard him turn to leave, heard his retreating footsteps, felt them reverberating through the metal under her feet.

He was leaving. Alec was _leaving_.

She felt the tension built inside her until it was screaming, urging her to take action, do something, don't let him walk away!

After everything that had happened, after all of the pain and heartache and loss, she still loved him. Loved him more than her pride. Loved him more than her own self-worth. More than anything.

Max turned, heart pounding in her chest, but he was gone.

_Gone_.

No. Not this time.

Max scrambled over the top of the Space Needle and practically threw herself at the window. She froze, standing in the broken window and tightly gripping the frame, as she spotted him. He was about to disappear down the stairwell.

"Alec!" she cried out, his name becoming a plea.

He stopped and turned, raising his eyebrows in question. "Yeah?"

Her chest was heaving, and she had to take several breaths before she could speak again. "Can't we start over?" she begged, her face full of desperate hope.

There was a long, horrible moment when he didn't say anything. It was only a couple of seconds, but it felt like an eternity to Max. He ducked his head, as if he was mulling it over. When he raised it again, the look in his eyes made her heart break all over again.

He gave a little shrug and said, "I don't know, Max. Can anyone?"

He smiled sadly at her, then turned and disappeared into the darkness.

Max stepped inside the window, then fell to her knees. She took deep, gulping breaths, trying to hold it in, to _not _break down. She wrapped her arms around herself and bent in half, taking fast, hitching breathes as she forced herself to hold in the sobs.

It was unfair. So unfair, and she didn't give a fuck if that was the way life was supposed to be.

She'd been happy. She'd been able to stand on her own again. The hole inside her had finally closed up, but it had just been thin scar tissue over a gaping wound. Seeing him again had torn that wound open and it was once again bleeding freely.

Love fucking sucked.

* * *

After Alec left Max on the Space Needle, he felt like he'd been cut adrift. He had no idea what to do, no idea where to go. He was in complete, emotional turmoil. He wandered around for a while until he found himself standing on the sidewalk in front of Joshua's old house, without any idea of how he'd gotten there.

He shoved his hands deep into his pockets as he stared at the house. It was dark. Empty. Alec could tell that without even walking inside. Joshua must've packed up and left a long time ago. It had been two years, after all. It was stupid to expect that things would be the same.

Stupid. Yeah. That sounded about right.

He needed to find Joshua. He had a sudden, desperate urge to talk to the big transhuman. Alec didn't know what it was, but there was something about Joshua that seemed to make everything fall into the right perspective, made everything clearer, somehow. Right now, he could use a little clarity.

He went to Terminal City, the logical place to look for a transgenic. He kept a low profile, but made sure to lower the collar of his jacket to reveal his barcode, just in case. Better to advertise your loyalties than get shot.

Once he was inside the border, he was challenged by a pair of those creepy X7 kids, carrying P90s. He identified himself, showed them his barcode, and that seemed to satisfy them. He asked them about Joshua, then rolled his eyes when he remembered these kids couldn't talk. But the X7s had been there for quite some time, and they knew how to communicate. The one kid used military hand signals to indicate that Alec should go down two blocks to the building on the left, top floor. Alec nodded his thanks, then headed off to find comfort in the form of a six foot six dog man.

When Alec found him, he felt a small sense of relief that not everything had changed. Joshua was painting.

Alec stood a couple of steps inside the doorway of Joshua's studio, smiling a little as he watched his old--and hopefully, still--friend flick paint at a large canvas. Joshua was so absorbed, and must've felt so safe here in TC, that he hadn't heard Alec coming.

"Hey, Big Guy," Alec said, and waited for Joshua's response.

The transhuman turned faster than seemed possible for such a large body. When Joshua caught sight of his intruder, his eyes widened, and the paintbrush he had been holding fell with a splat to the floor.

Joshua closed the distance between them in three large steps, then grabbed Alec up in a big, bone-crushing hug, lifting the X5 off the ground.

Alec would've laughed if his squished lungs had allowed it. He hugged Joshua back, but when he realized the transhuman wasn't letting go, he managed to squeak out, "Need to breathe, there, buddy."

Joshua huffed happily and set Alec down, jarring the smaller man a bit. The transhuman's smile was a mile wide as he looked down at his long-lost friend. Alec returned Josh's smile with one of his own.

"Missed Alec," Joshua said, putting his hands on Alec's shoulders and giving him an affectionate squeeze.

"I missed you too, Josh. Been a long time"

Joshua nodded. "Long time." Then his eyes changed, delight fading as he seemed to remember why it had been such a long time. The look became assessing as he took in his friend's appearance. "Alec better?"

Alec's smile faded a bit. "Yeah. I'm good."

But he wasn't. Joshua could see that he was not. Alec was the opposite of good. But it was not like before. When he looked into Alec's eyes, he _saw _Alec, not an empty shell. Something else was wrong.

"Alec see Max yet?" he asked, suspecting the source of Alec's problem.

Joshua watched the transformation of Alec's face. It was like someone flipped a switch and, boom, all emotions were locked down tight. "Yeah, we… talked."

"Ah." Joshua thought he detected a shiner forming under Alec's one eye. So that's why he was a mess. "Going to stay?" he added hopefully.

Alec looked away, then turned back. He started to say something, but then hesitated and had to look away again. "I don't know, Joshua," he said after a minute. He took a couple of steps toward the bank of windows, then heaved a sigh. "It's complicated."

"Only complicated if Alec make it complicated."

Alec gave a half-hearted laugh. "Story of my life, man."

The X5 cleared his throat to cover his discomfort, then proceeded to change the subject. "Nice digs," he said with approval, walking around to look at the place. "I was a little worried about you when I found your old place empty." Alec paused, fiddling with some of Joshua's art supplies so he would have an excuse not to look Joshua in the eye. "Been here long?"

"A while," Joshua said, completely aware of what Alec was doing.

Alec was stubborn, just like Max. If you tried to force him into something, he'd fight you tooth and nail, just like Max. But, like Max, if you made him aware of his options, he would eventually make the right choice. At least, Joshua hoped he would make the right choice.

"Lots of people in Terminal City who accept Joshua for Joshua," the transhuman continued, and his words caused Alec to fall silent. "Here, Joshua is happy. Lots of us happy here."

Alec's head raised at this, turning to look toward his friend. "Even though you're all stuck here?"

Joshua gave Alec a pointed look. "Rather be stuck together than alone."

Alec fell silent again as he thought about this. The silence continued for a half a minute, until Alec seemed to suddenly gather himself and he straightened. He crossed over to Joshua and clapped a hand on transhuman's shoulder to say goodbye. Maybe for good.

Joshua understood this; he could see it in Alec's eyes. As the X5 turned to leave, Joshua called out to stop him.

"Alec…"

Alec turned, just like he had for Max, and replied with the same, "Yeah?" though this time, it was Alec's voice that was strained.

"Don't make snap decision. Think about it a while."

They fell silent, both still as statues as they contemplated the future ahead. Alec opened his mouth to say something, then changed his mind. He gave Joshua a nod of acknowledgment, then turned and walked out the door.

* * *

He was almost out of TC when he heard a voice--familiar, yet not--calling his name.

"Alec! Hey, Alec! Hold up!"

Alec turned and saw a blonde guy jogging toward him. It was the same vaguely familiar guy he'd seen Max with at Jam Pony. If the guy was in TC, he must be a transgenic, which explained why he looked kind of familiar.

Alec had a bzuh-type moment as he tried to bring up the memories that went with the face. The hair and street clothes were throwing him off, but then the guy gave him a hesitant smile, and those dimples caused it to click.

"I know you."

"Same goes," Flynn replied, both hesitance and discomfort in his voice.

They both fell silent for a bit, mired in memories of days better forgotten. Alec broke the spell, clearing his throat before he asked, "What're they calling you these days?"

"Flynn."

Alec's lips twisted in a smirk. "Pick that yourself?"

Flynn frowned, not sure if the question was a dig. "Yeah." He hesitated again, unable to figure out how to begin. He had always been more than a little intimidated by 494--_Alec_. Part of it was physical, as Alec had always been better at hand to hand. But it was more Alec's presence that intimidated him. Even back at Manticore, Alec had this way about him that made people want to like him, made people want to do what he wanted. Flynn had always suspected the guy might have a little touch of telecoersion ability in him.

Alec waited, but when Flynn didn't say anything, he got impatient. "Well, I gotta get going." He smacked Flynn on the arm. "It's been real."

Flynn watched the man he knew Max was in love with turn and walk away. He took a deep breath and gathered his courage, then followed him. "No, wait a minute. I want to talk to you."

Alec didn't stop walking, didn't turn. "'Bout what?" he said jovially. "The old days? 'Cause if it's all the same to you, I'd rather not."

"No, not that." Deep breath. "About Max."

_That_ made him stop.

Alec felt that quick stab of jealousy that he had felt before, and this time, he didn't bother denying it. He turned and faced Flynn, leveling a cold stare at the other transgenic. "What's Max to you?" he asked, each word clearly enunciated and deadly serious.

Flynn swallowed hard. He would not let Alec intimidate him. He met Alec's stare, and held it. "A good friend. What's she to you?"

Alec paused a beat, and his stare hardened. He saw Flynn shift nervously, but the other X5 didn't back down.

Flynn cared about Max; Alec could see that in his eyes. Flynn wanted an answer to his question, but it was one for which Alec didn't really have an answer.

He'd been avoiding the answer to that question for a long time.

Ever since he came back to Seattle, everything he'd been feeling had been so damn intense. He felt like he was trying to navigate an emotional minefield. The problem was, he had been emotionally crippled for so long that he faced destruction with every step.

He _couldn't_ answer that question. It was too dangerous.

Alec closed his eyes, breaking the visual standoff between them. Then he turned and walked away without another word.

Flynn blinked. Huh. That hadn't been the reaction he had been expecting--more like a fist to the face. He took off after Alec, calling out, "You know she loves you, right?"

Alec almost stumbled. He shook his head, then walked faster, causing Flynn to increase his speed to keep up.

"Max doesn't want me around," Alec said, his tone defensive.

Alec said the words, but he didn't believe them. In his mind, he saw her again, standing there, in the window of the Space Needle, asking if they could start over. Thinking about that made him feel all panicky. This whole damn trip down memory lane was making him panicky. He should've never come back to Seattle. It was seriously having a negative affect on his mental health.

"She doesn't want me around," he repeated, as if by mere repetition he could convince himself that it was true.

Flynn slowed to a stop. "You believe _that_," he said to Alec's back, and there was a hint of smugness in his tone, "you're dumber than I thought."

Alec whirled and took a few angry steps back towards Flynn. "You know, why don't you mind own business?"

"I can't. You haven't been here, but _I_ have. I've seen how it's torn her up inside, man, tryin' to get over you. She made herself miserable staying with a man she didn't love 'cause she was trying to make herself get over you." Flynn closed the remaining distance between them and grabbed Alec's arm. "How can you just walk away from something like that?"

Alec's lowered his gaze, staring pointedly at hand holding him, then back up at Flynn.

"You can't beat me." The words were said calmly, as if he were remarking on the weather. He was simply stating a fact.

Flynn let go and shifted his weight to balls of feet and bent his knees a little, a casual fighting stance. "No, I can't," he said, but stood his ground.

Alec stared into Flynn's sincere eyes and knew he had a decision to make. He could either beat the X5 bloody--and thus avoid the emotional minefield altogether--or he could man up and deal with the shit.

Dammit.

Alec moved away from Flynn. He folded his arms overtop of the hood of an abandoned Chevy that had probably been sitting in the alley since before he was born. "I can't give her what she needs. It's been so long since I allowed myself to feel anything...you know? Like _really _feel. I just don't know if I'm capable of it anymore."

Flynn leaned against the car and looked at Alec's profile. He could see that Alec was torn up. It was as blatantly obvious that Alec felt something for Max. He could see that tortured, yearning look in his eyes--much like Max's eyes had been when she'd first come back to Seattle, any time someone mentioned Alec's name.

"You _are _dumber than I thought," Flynn muttered.

Alec frowned. He had been lost in thought and not really paying attention. "What?"

Flynn shook his head. "You know, I never took you for a guy who'd give up without trying."

"I'm not. It's just… so much has happened between us. It keeps getting in the way and..."

He trailed off, realizing that was just an excuse. He heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his hair, his usual nervous habit. "I don't want to screw her life up anymore than I already have. She deserves better than that." Alec ducked his head, almost embarrassed. "Than _me_," he added.

_Finally_, Flynn thought. _A little honesty_. Flynn smiled, dimples flashing as he clapped Alec companionably on the shoulder. "Don't you think you should leave that decision up to her?"

* * *

Two days had passed.

Max had spent those two days frantic with indecision. She had bitten every single one of her fingernails down to the quick, and she had paced until Original Cindy thought she would wear a hole in the floor. On the second day, Cindy reluctantly went off to work, at Max's insistence. They couldn't risk both of them getting fired.

After Cindy had left, the pacing and nail biting continued for another hour, until she had finally had enough. She forced herself to stop pacing and took several deep breaths, trying to purge the riot of thought and emotion, until she reached a point of clarity. It was then that she came to a decision.

She was gonna find him.

She spent the rest of the day packing her bag and waiting in line for gasoline for her Ninja. Then she placed a call to Original Cindy and told her friend to meet her at Crash. They were probably gonna need beer to have this discussion, and she figured it could double as a sort of going away party. Who knew when she'd be back again?

Once they sat at the bar with beer in hand, Max broke the news to Cindy. Her plan came out of her in a rush, as if she was afraid she would change her mind if she didn't get it out fast enough, or maybe afraid that her friend would object if Max let her get a word in edgewise. When she'd finished, Cindy gave her this look, one that said she wasn't sure if she was on board with the whole crazy scheme.

"Dunno 'bout this, Max. I mean, ain't you been down this road before? You really wanna go there again, after all the shit that happen?"

"I'm going, Cindy. I've made up my mind, and I'm not gonna back out now. I'm goin' up to Canada and hunt his ass down."

Cindy frowned. It wasn't that she didn't think that Max could do it; Max could do just about anything. But she'd lived with Max through the tough patch after she'd lost Alec the first time, and she didn't want to see her girl have to live through that all over again. "Whatchu gon' do when you find 'im, then? Drag'm back?" she asked.

"Gonna tell him how I really feel. No sorta, kinda saying it. I'm laying it on the line, straight out. He doesn't want me; he can't forgive me? Fine. I can deal with that. But I'm not gonna live the rest of my life wondering what if."

"But... Canada? It goddamn cold up there, girl." _Don't go. This whole thing got me worried outta my mind. I can't stand to see you break down again. _

"Go to the ends of the earth if I have to."

Cindy could see that Max was determined. If her girl wanted to take the risk, then who was she to say it wasn't worth it? "You gotta follow your heart, boo."

Max nodded, finishing off the beer in her glass and then smacking it back down on the bar. "Damn straight."

* * *

Original Cindy spotted him first.

She had let Max rant for a while, until it had gotten to the point where Max wasn't really looking for conversation but a sounding board. Cindy was still paying attention to what Max said, making the appropriate _mmhmm_ noises when necessary, but her gaze began to wander. And that was when she spotted him.

Alec stood on the other side of the room, scanning the crowd. Max was still on a tear, so she was too distracted to notice him amidst the usual commotion of Crash. His eyes flicked from person to person until he suddenly froze; he'd found what he was looking for.

Alec's eyes met Original Cindy's, and there was a moment of silent communication between them. Cindy's eyes were defensive, telling Alec in no uncertain terms that he'd better not hurt Max again. Alec's eyes held a promise that he would try his damnedest not to. They also held an apology. Cindy could see that the memory of that intense moment in the van in California still haunted him.

Alec's lips quirked in a slight smile, and he raised his eyebrows in question: _Am I forgiven?_

Cindy gave him a hard stare, just long enough to make him sweat a bit. The boy needed reminding that Original Cindy meant business when it came to one Max Guevara. Then her gaze softened, and she gave him a slow smile: _Forgiven_.

As Alec started making his way over to them, Cindy took the opportunity to interrupt Max. "Hey, boo?"

"Hmmm?"

"Don't think you need to go looking for yo' boy."

Max's brows furrowed. "What? You're the one said I had to follow my heart! I can't believe your flippin' on me like this…"

Original Cindy didn't bother trying to explain. She just reached over and spun Max's stool around.

"The hell? What're you…" Max's protest died as her throat closed up when she saw that the man she had been planning to hunt down--her heart's desire--was right there in front of her.

Cindy leaned over and whispered in Max's ear. "Looks like your heart came to you, boo. Good luck." She gave Max a squeeze, then faded away into the crowd.

Max came to her feet, utterly speechless. Could this be happening? Could it really be happening? She'd had nothing but bad luck for so long, she found it hard to believe that something could go her way for once. At this point, she was almost more ready to believe that there might be a 49_5_ than believe that Alec really stood in front of her.

As he closed the distance between them, and her heart began to pound.

She saw so much that she hadn't seen that night on the Space Needle. Then, she'd been so overwhelmed by the fact that he was _there_. Now, she noticed the little differences in him. His hair was longer, pushed back away from his face. It was a lot lighter now, with tons of light blonde highlights, and his skin held a deep golden tan; he must've been somewhere sunny. His barcode was concealed behind the collar of his jacket.

He carried himself a bit differently now--less cocky swagger, more confident stride. But that twinkle in his eyes, the twinkle that she'd once thought had been lost forever, was back.

Alec took one more step, bringing them so close that she had to tilt her head back to see his face. He looked down at her with this slightly puzzled look on his face that she didn't quite understand until he spoke.

"You know, this might totally sound like I'm feeding you a line, but…" his said, his voice slow and kind of wistful, "you remind me of a girl I once knew. Someone special."

He reached up and grabbed one of Max's loose curls, slowly running it through his fingers. Her heart just about stopped. "I don't think she was as pretty as you, though," Alec added, his voice going deep and sexy.

Max opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out but a soft strangled noise. It made Alec smile, and he gave her lock of hair a little tug before releasing it. "I'm Alec," he said, smile widening until it leveled out at devastating. His eyes seemed to hold a challenge as he waited for her response.

"Max," she replied in a choked whisper.

"_Max_," Alec said, nodding. "I like it. Suits you, somehow."

He leaned on the bar and gave her an appraising look, raising an eyebrow at her. She felt like she would just collapse in a puddle at his feet. All the feelings rushing at her made her feel weak and boneless, but not in a bad way.

"I'd really like to get to know you better, Max. Maybe we could meet sometime, get a cup of coffee?"

Alec reached into his pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. He held it out to her, and Max could see that there was a phone number written on it.

Max's brain stuttered a bit, but then it caught up with the conversation. She finally realized what he was doing. He was giving her what she wanted. He was offering her a fresh start, a chance to start over, without the virus, Logan, or Manticore between them.

Max slowly reached forward and took the piece of paper from his hand. "Sure," she managed to get out, her voice cracking. She cleared her throat, then smiled. "I'd like that."

Alec smiled back at her, a pure and brilliant smile that had her blinking back tears. "See you around then..." he said in smooth, silken tones, and reached up with a finger to trace the line of her jaw in a caress that felt like fire on her skin, "... _Max._"

Her heart skipped a beat, and she was sure he heard it, because the smile turned into a smirk--that same smirk she knew so well, that had haunted her dreams ever since he'd been gone. He backed up a few steps, still smirking, then slowly turned and walked away.

As soon as he was gone, Original Cindy came back and started bombarding her with questions, but her voice faded into the background. Max was watching Alec's retreating back, overcome.

"_See you_," she whispered wistfully. The words were a promise.

Max rubbed her thumb over the slip of paper in her hand, its existence reassuring her that what had happened was real and not some wonderful daydream.

As she watched him walk away from her once more, she realized something was different. The hole inside her--the barely healed void that had existed in her since he'd been gone, the one that had been ripped wide open at his return--was suddenly filled.

She was complete without him, but with him, she was something _more_. _They _could be something more.

Max's fist closed convulsively around the piece of paper, holding it tight. She was not holding onto it, as much as she was holding on to _him_. She knew that, no matter what, she would never let him go again.

The End.

Inzane March 2008

* * *

A/N: There is no Disney ending for Max and Alec. No declarations of undying love, no passionate embraces, not even a goddamn kiss. I could not leave you with something that would destroy the harsh reality I worked so hard to create.

What I have left you with, dear reader, is hope. Hope that, this time, Max and Alec won't screw it up. Where they go from here, I leave up to your imagination. I like to think that they make it, because, hiding behind all the angst, I really am a romantic at heart.

Please review. I would love to know your final thoughts on this story.

* * *

A little postscript:

You know, when I started this fic, I never intended to write a friggin' _novel_. My original plot outline was for six chapters. Six. How I got twenty three in the end, I'll never know. But the fault is mine, I know, because I made Alec a little (okay,_ a lot_) darker than I had originally intended. Then I broke both characters down so badly that I needed quite a few chapters to fix them back up.

I want to give my Supernatural story a shot before continuing in the Dark Angel realm. I think I've gathered enough courage to try to write for the boys. It's probably been done, but, hell, I'm gonna do it anyway.

For those of you who are fans of The Friggin' Cure, my first fic, I just wanted to let you know that I _will_ be doing a sequel some time in the future. I already have the basic plot of the story. I just need to let that universe rest for a little while longer before I return to it.


End file.
